Vetanda
by Fire Makes Me Smile
Summary: Safety, that's all Rogue wanted. But when a kidnapping tears Rogue away from the tightly woven safety net she spent so much time weaving, she discovers that the lure of the forbidden is stronger then she ever could have imagined. ROMY.
1. Alcohol

**Vetanda**

**This is set after the third movie, going with the 'Rogue didn't take the cure' alternate ending. I brought in some of the New Mutants from the comics, because I like the New Mutants. Also I have decided that Pyro is too awesome in general to be evil, and also, too awesome in general to be American (no offense intended to Americans, but those Aussies have you beat, no competition) **

**This is going to be a fairly long fic, originally it was supposed to be about 20 chapters, but has since then been raised to thirty and, knowing me, will probably be about 40 chapters by the end of this. Updates will come as quickly as possible, but life often gets in the way of writing and I may not be able to work on this fic as much as I'd like to.**

**But enough of my complaining, here's the fic.**

Rogue nibbled on her thumbnail as the group observed the streets below. There were ten of the young X-Men in total, all sitting on top of a two story building that had a good view of the streets.

Although it was well past midnight, New Orleans was stilling bustling with activity. Many people crowded the street, some wandering around aimlessly while others going directly towards a certain bar, jazz club or restaurant. Somehow a musician was heard over the loud bustle, sitting on the corner playing slow jazz loudly with his case lying open at his feet, a cardboard sign asking for spare change. There were seldom any coins.

Rogue hadn't liked the idea of sneaking out of the mansion in the middle of the night to begin with, but she had assumed they would just be sneaking around the grounds, not really doing anything bad. She hadn't expected to be going into the _city. _

Noriko had told her that they would just be going for a walk around the grounds, maybe go for a midnight swim in the mansion's own pool since it was _sooo_ hard to get the pool empty during the day.

Normally, Rogue wouldn't have even wanted to do _that. _But as her roommate climbed out of the window and latched onto the ivy that grew up the side of the Institute, she had felt a little thrill in her stomach, and on that tiny promise for excitement that had seemed lacking in her life lately, she had climbed out after her.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

She blamed it on that thrill, especially when it escalated into full blown adrenalin as she scaled down five stories worth of dorms and classrooms with nothing but lush climbing plants keeping her from death.

If it wasn't for that _thrill_ that had lasted for long afterwards, then she would have protested as soon as they'd met up with the others and she found out what they would _really _be doing. But she didn't feel up to it, and giddiness clouded her common sense. She had wanted to do something _bad._

And she had felt _bad. _She had felt like it was okay to venture away from her carefully woven safety net, even if for just a moment.

Until that moment on the rooftop, when the excitement of sneaking off had faded and the realization of what she was doing dawned on her. This was _too _far from her safety net. If she fell now, there'd be nothing to catch her.

If they were found out, there would be trouble. At the very least they'd have to wash and wax the entire Blackbird without powers. Or do everyone else's chores for months. Really, depending on how Ms. Monroe's mood was that day, they could be getting the most terrifying punishment known to mankind. Which would be leaving their punishment up to Logan (insert horrified scream here).

Whatever happened, it could be avoided if they just turned back. But first she had to convince the others that what they were doing was _freaking stupid. _It was an honor thing; she couldn't just leave them behind while she ran to safety.

And also, it would have made her look like a coward, and a coward was something that Rogue was not.

She cleared her throat nervously.

"Guys, Ah don' know if this is such a good idea." She whispered to the other's backs, her Mississippi accent prominent even in the small sentence. Several heads turned back to look at her, and she could have sworn she saw an eye role or two.

"Oh, live a little Rogue," Tabitha scoffed, turning around to face her fully and cocking a hip, "We're in _New Orleans. _It would be a sin to come here and not have a little fun."

Rogue raised her eyebrows in a silent answer. How could they not see how reckless this was?

Oh ya, Tabitha. Her judgment of what was and what wasn't reckless was a little impaired. But maybe there was still hope for the others.

"We're here on a field trip, just because we're _here,_ at this _place _doesn't give us a free pass to do whatever the hell we want!"

John snorted a quiet laugh, turning around as well.

"Are ya kidding?" He asked cheerfully, "Of course it does, Sheila! We're in _New Orleans_! The Big Easy! The Crescent City!"

"The Birthplace of Jazz!" Cessily Kincaid added as she clicked on an image inducer she had 'borrowed'. Her metallic silver skin flickered for a moment between random skin colors from brown to neon green, than rested on a freckled pinkish color. Nori and Josh soon followed suit, in order to hide their metal arms and golden skin, respectively, until they all looked like average, not mutant people.

Around them, the others were catching on to the little game of 'nicknames of New Orleans'.

"America's European Masterpiece!"

"The City of Chefs!"

"America's favorite city!"

"N'awlins!"

"The Queen City of the Mississippi!"

"The City of Light!"

The list stopped abruptly as everyone turned to stare at Julian. He stood there obliviously for a moment until he realized that everyone had stopped the conversation.

"What?" He asked ignorantly, looking at the others shaking their heads at him sadly.

"Julian, The City of Lights is _Paris_. Not New Orleans." Tabitha half-scolded, half-giggled, before bursting into unabashed laughter. Her yellow-blond hair was unevenly cropped, and you could just tell that she had cut it herself in an insane spur of the moment thing. And from the way she was rolling around laughing, no one doubted the insanity part.

"Uh…" Sam said over Tabitha's noise. He actually looked a little embarrassed on Julian's behalf, "New Orleans is the Paris of the South…?"

Betsy shook her head sadly at Sam's sad attempt at redeeming Julian. Her bright purple bob cut fell into her eyes as she rolled them in an overstated kind of way.

"And back on topic," she said in a heavy British accent, "It most certainly _does _give us a free pass to do whatever we want."

Everyone had turned around to face Rogue now, all wearing smug expressions that said quite clearly that no matter what she said or did, they weren't going back to the mansion until they were satisfied with their night. But that still didn't stop her from trying.

"Come on guys, seriously. Think about what'll happen if we get caught! We should just go back to the mansion now while we still have the chance and act like nothing ever happened."

"That won't be necessary," Amara declared confidently, pulling her long blond hair into a ponytail "Because we're not _going_ to get caught."

"But, what if Logan…"

"Not here." Josh interrupted, a little impatiently, "He decided to go back to New York early. He left _hours_ ago."

"Alright, but Laura…"

"She already knows. Actually, she's covering for us."

"Storm…"

"Is really busy and won't miss ten students out of hundreds for one night."

"The _other_ students…" this time Nori cut in.

"Are the only issue. Laura, Forge, and Sooraya are pretty much neutral about it, and are covering for us against the stiffs, who are mostly Kitty, Piotr, and Bobby."

"But… there are still so many things that could go wrong!" There were various forms of eye rolling and scoffing around her, "And- and… and why the hell are we on a roof, anyways?" said desperately, quickly running out of arguments.

"Because it's fun to climb things," Sam said simply, as if that fact should have been obvious from the start.

"_And_," Betsy continued for him, "We needed a secluded place to explain a few things to you. Thing to explain #1: You aren't going to tell _him_ about this. Understood?"

"Bobby? But…"

"_Understood?_"

Rogue ground her teeth in annoyance; it wasn't like she would even tell Bobby about this little 'misadventure'. And even if she did, it wasn't like he would tell anyone _else_.

"Understood." She muttered bitterly, than glanced over to where John and Nori were now the only ones watching the activities below, "But what are we going to do anyways? We can't go to a bar or anything, we're still minors. Are we just going to stand on this roof the whole time? Because _it's fun to climb things_?"

Julian started to snicker as if she had just said something extremely funny. She turned to glare at him.

"What?" she growled, and he cut off the laughter, a grin still on his face.

Cessily giggled lightly before shooting a bright smile at Rogue. She didn't trust that smile.

"Thing to explain #2: We got fake IDs, Rogue. Didn't anyone tell you? We're celebrating little Josh's twenty-first birthday!"

She reached into the pocket in her light jeans, pulling out a shiny card, and held it out to Rogue with a sweet smile. Rogue took the card between her fingers hesitantly, then jerked it out of Cessily's hand with a little flick of her wrist.

She quickly glanced over it. Things had just gotten worse than getting in trouble for sneaking out, things had gotten _illegal. _

"Where did you get this?" Rogue asked quietly. Her picture looked like it had been taken for a _real _ID, but she defiantly would have remembered posing for something like this. Her name read 'Anna Raven' in official-looking letters.

John beamed as he pulled out a card of his own, flashing it in her face proudly.

"Forge made them for us! School pictures 'cause no one ever smiles for 'um and fake names. He was too much of a wuss to actually come, but he said making us fake IDs made him feel 'badass'. I say we've effectively corrupted him! And look, my name is 'William Meeks! How cool is that?" he giggled near-hysterically as he continued to wave around the card, "And it's fun to say! William Meeks, William Meeks, William Meeks, William Meeks, William Meeks, William Meeks, William Meeks, William Meeks, William Meeks, William Meeks, William Meeks, William Meeks, William Meeks, William Meeks, William Meeks…"

Betsy rolled her eyes as John continued to repeat his fake name.

"Well, the 'Meeks' part is defiantly off."

John cut off repeating the name for just an instant to snort a laugh.  
"Oh, shut up _Lola Hicks._ William Meeks, William Meeks, William Meeks, William Meeks…"

"You know, I find that name kind of ironic. Not the William Meeks one, the Lola Hicks. I think that was Forge trying to make a joke. I mean, Betsy, a hick? Ya, like that would happen."

"Well, can't say I argue with that."

"Hey, John, can I call you Willy?"

Betsy burst out laughing.

"William Meeks, William Meeks, **ABSOLUTELY NOT!** William Meeks, William Meeks, William Meeks…"

"Aww, _please?_" Amara whinned, giving out a nice long false whine at the 'please'.

"HOLD ON A SECOND!" Rogue suddenly yelled, effectively ending the conversation, including John's incessant repetition of 'William Meeks'. "You do realize that this is an awful idea, right? This is _illegal. _VERY _ILLEGAL. _We can't do this!"

Betsy simply smirked at her, like _Rogue _was the one being unreasonable about the situation.

"Sounding a little hysteric there, _Anna_." She quipped lightly, "It's not _that _illegal. Didn't you break into the white house one time?"

"Ya, to save _your_ ungrateful asses from hell! And my name is not _Anna. _It's _Rogue. _Okay? I refuse to take this ID! You people are being idiots! CAN'T YOU SEE WHAT AN AWFUL IDEA THIS IS?" She yelled, practically screaming the last sentence as if that would help it get through their thick skulls.

Everyone was silent for a beat before Nori spoke up.

"I agree with Betsy, you _are _hysteric. I think you need to calm down a bit. Josh?"

Josh nodded gravely and placed a heavy hand onto Rogues shoulder. She tried to shrug away, but he held firm.

Fast spreading from his hand, Rogue could feel a cold feeling seeping through her veins. She could feel her heart slow, and she could feel her fears and anger and, well, _hysteria_ start to disappear, as well as the small headache that had started to build up.

Rogue wrinkled her nose, actually making a conscious effort to be angry, but found she couldn't do it. It's a hard thing to do when you have a mutant that can control pretty much anything in pretty much anything's body against you. It's quite simple, really. No symptoms of anger or fear or hysteria, no anger or fear or hysteria. He'd might as well be an empath.

"There, better?" Josh said in a sickly-sweet voice as he took his hand off of her shoulder, though the calmness it had caused remained. Rogue shot a half-hearted glare in his direction.

"Ah hate ya, Josh."

Josh cracked a smile at that.

"Of _course_ you do." He said in dry sarcasm, "Oh, and try to remember, tonight it's Jacob."

Rogue rolled her eyes at him.

"Ah'm still not going to a bar."

Her friends all smiled.

***later***

"Ah can't believe Ah let ya take me to a bar." Rogue muttered to Nori from her stool. She was sitting at the bar with shoulders slouched over her pop as she looked dully into it. Nori just laughed at her dreary expression, leaning back slightly in her own stool.

"And _I _can't believe that you actually believed that when I said we'd go to dance club instead, you didn't think there'd be alcohol," she took a swing from her beer as if to prove her point further. She sighed contently, ignoring Rogue disapproving glares, "Ahhhh, foreign. The only stuff we can get at the mansion is the crappy quality Canadian stuff that Logan's so fond of. I mean, I get the whole 'I'm from Canada so Canadian beer must be good' thing, but it just can't beat something off-continent."

Rogue's jaw dropped in shock.

"You've been drinking _Logan's_ beer? Aren't ya afraid of being, ya know, _sliced and diced_?" She asked. Nori just rolled her eyes as if it wasn't a big deal. Even though it was most defiantly a _big deal._

"Ya, we all have. Been stealing Logan's beer that is, not sliced and diced. What? Did you think John was _sober _when he tried to set the swimming pool on fire?"

Rogue looked away guiltily, okay, so it might have crossed her mind once or twice that her friends were occasionally under the influence of alcohol when they shouldn't. But she had chosen to ignore it. What was the saying? Ignorance is bliss?

"Well, Ah might've wondered for a while," Rogue muttered, tracing the pop tab with her pinky, "After all, he did succeed."

Nori laughed and took another swing. Their friends were all in various stages of getting drunk, with John and Tabitha in the lead.

Actually, Rogue was pretty John was trying to set something on fire, but he couldn't seem to get the lighter to spark.

Thank God for that.

"So, you didn't get caught stealing Logan's beer?" Rogue asked, casting a sideways glance at Nori.

"Oh, we got caught all right, first time. Logan just looked at all of us and said 'Danger Room sessions first thing in the morning. If any one of you has a hangover, I will show no mercy.' And so none of us got any hangovers." She shot a crooked grin towards Rogue, "That man sure knows how to keep a bunch of kids in check."

"That he does," Rogue agreed, then as an afterthought added in a mumble, "except when he goes out of town that just gives them an invitation to go overboard."

Nori just giggled.

"Well, it hasn't killed us yet!" She took another long swing, finishing of her bottle and turning to the bar to order another.

Rogue shook her head slowly. For people who claimed to do a lot of drinking, not one of her friends seemed to realize how much they were going to regret the ridiculous amount of alcohol they were consuming without a second thought. Just because Logan was already gone for New York, they seemed to think that getting a hangover would be no big deal.

Rogue sipped her pop. They were in for one hell of a morning. Or later today, actually.

**(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())**

Tabitha started singly loudly and out-of tune along with the music while she danced in an awkward, jerky manner. Rogue groaned in embarrassment for her, covering her face with her hand while Nori just laughed loudly. She tipped her drink towards Rogue slightly. Her words had started to slur together into a messy heap.

"Oh, cim' 'n _Anna. _Av' a drin_k_ er twooo. I guarant...t…t… promissse th' night'll be morrre funnn." Rogue suppressed another groan. No, not a groan. A pissed-off growl.

"I already have a drink, _Tamika,_" Rogue said coolly, "It's a Mountain Dew, see?"

Nori just laughed, a little hysterically, at the mention of the name on her fake ID. She curled a strand of electric-blue hair around her finger absently as she glanced around.

"Welll, 'mm donnne wit' keepinggg y' compny 'ile y' sul_k_. Seee ya."

Nori pushed away from the bar sloppily, beer in hand, and slowly stumbled her way over to a group of guys she had been eyeing earlier. It almost made Rogue want to remind her that she _had _a boyfriend, but she knew that it was a lost cause, as Nori probably wouldn't even remember David's name at this point.

"Don't get date-raped." She muttered instead, looking back to her drink. It was funny, she had always thought that her roommate was more responsible than this, and had enough sense to stay home like a good girl.

_But then again_, Rogue thought as she glanced to where Nori was now borderline obnoxiously flirting with some guy with long blond hair, _that's what most people expect from me too, and yet here I am._

But at least she wasn't going overboard, she hadn't touched a single drop of alcohol since arriving and had told every guy, the ones that she didn't know already, simply to go away if they said two casual words to her.

So far no one had been persistent enough to stick around.

_Well, that's a little depressing. _She thought as she sipped from her drink. She had kind of been hoping one of them would stay anyways. She was feeling a little lonely lately. For a split second, she actually considered buying something alcoholic to fade out all her stresses for a little while, but then she again noticed Tabby and thought better of it.

**(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())**

****The night wore on, and all of her friends became increasingly more drunk. Some random Goth girl in red and John had been making for a while, which was funny because it had only started because she had helped him spark his lighter and he had ended up forgetting about the fire in favor of her anyways.

John ditching fire for a girl, now that was different. Didn't matter now though. The both of them were unconscious on the ground, the girl sprawled over his chest.

Around the time Tabby disappeared into the bathroom to throw up, a figure slipped into the chair beside her. From the corner of her eye, she could see that it was male, and she was about to tell him to get lost when she noticed something key, something that should have been obvious.

His skin was metallic gold.

Josh.

Rogue gasped in surprise, almost falling off of her stool. His image inducer must have been malfunctioning and he was too drunk to notice.

"Josh!" she hissed once she'd regained her composure, glancing around at the other people in the bar. People had, unsurprisingly, already started to notice the conspicuous mutant in their midst and were scrambling to get as far from him as possible. "Damn it, Josh! What's wrong with your image inducer?" she whispered furiously.

Josh just blinked at her dumbly.

"Mmm' imagggg indssrrr?" he slurred thickly, as if his tongue was too thick for his mouth. Rogue cursed silently, moving away from him slowly as more people began to make a bubble around Josh. She didn't want to look too friendly with a mutant, as bad things might happen.

"How the _hell_ are we going to get you home?" she growled lowly from the side, and then glanced around the place at her friends. Those who weren't hammered in similar ways like Josh were actually unconscious, namely Tabitha and John (Goth girl still there, equally unconscious), "No, how the hell am _I _going to get _everyone _home! You weren't _all _supposed to get wasted!"

As if in an answer, Josh made a funny gurgling noise in the back of his throat and fell off the stool.

People had started whispering among themselves, their words sounding like an angry buzz, and Rogue thought she heard the word 'muttie' stand out from the jumble more than once.

Making up a plan as she went, Rogue marched over to Josh furiously, grabbing his shoulders, trying, and failing, to get him to stand up, and yelled the first thing that came to mind in a fake northern accent.

"Jacob, you stupid Bandejo!" she seethed, using the name she knew he was using here as well as a curse that a random psyche had on hand, "You painted yourself _gold? _What the hell! Twenty-first birthday, and you paint yourself _gold_? That's it, we're going _home_."

She inconspicuously took off her gloves, stuffing them in her pockets and grabbed onto his bare arm, feeling the pull of her powers for just a few seconds before letting the limb appendage slip through her fingers. She looked at her palms with a wrinkled nose as if something gross was there.

"And then you get it on me. You stupid shit." All around the crowd was turning back to whatever they were doing, apparently actually believing that some eccentric twenty-one year old had painted himself gold. Rogue wondered for an instant if these people were actually that gullible, or if they were just too drunk to care.

She brushed the thought away almost immediately so that she could sort through the information she had just absorbed from the now-unconscious Josh. She could feel power, _his _power that she had taken, tingling at her fingertips.

She grimaced a little when his memories hit her like a slap in the face, suddenly downloading every little thing about him into her mind in an instant.

She really didn't want the memory of her, no, _Josh's, _parents disowning him after he saved his brother's life with his mutation.

Slamming the new voice in her head back with a mental barrier, She pulled back on her gloves and gently placed a hand on Josh's head, dipping gently into the powers she had absorbed from him.

It was a funny sensation, feeling his entire body working to keep him alive under her fingertips. She could feel every part of him functioning separately and yet together. The buzz of his nervous system, the movement of messages slowed from his night of drinking. The churning of his digestion, on the brink of making him vomit to try and expel some of the poison he had consumed. She could feel the heavy thumping of his heart, his ragged breathing, and the alcohol in his blood. Oh, how she could feel the alcohol in his blood.

To her borrowed powers, it felt like a disease, its presence making the nerve ends in her hands sting almost painfully. The power reached out, feeling its way around his many different organs and cells for a way to tweak a quick fix to the problem, settling on the liver at last.

More tweaks that Rogue was barely conscious of, made so the liver could process the alcohol more efficiently and quickly without burning out.

And then, five seconds later, Josh was sober.

Still unconscious, but sober none the less.

She gently pulled back from Josh, shaking her head a little in an attempt to clear it of the precise map of his body the borrowed powers had drawn for her. She had to admit, it was a little overwhelming, knowing that with a little twitch of a finger you could cut off a person's life.

While trying to help him, she had seen a million in one ways to make his life end. Just like that. She bet that with a little practice, she could even change a person's very DNA. But she wouldn't have the powers that long.

He would.

She hooked Josh's arm across her shoulders and lifted him up off the ground. She didn't know what to do with him, but it didn't seem right to leave him on the floor, especially if the humans at this place actually grew brains and realized that Josh _was _a mutant. Dragging him over to one of the many empty booths lining the far wall of the building, she laid him down in a semi-casual way, so it looked like he had fallen asleep after some heavy drinking.

Then, in a random burst of good humor, she grabbed a napkin from the table and a pen that someone had left beside the pile and wrote quickly on it in big printing:

_Warning: Wet Paint._

"Painted himself gold," she muttered under her breath as she placed the napkin on his chest, "What kind of idiot would believe that? But then again, this _is_ New Orleans; maybe it's normal here…"

She glanced up just in time to see Amara joining the collection of unconscious drunk friends, and grimaced. She was going to need to sober up someone still _awake_ soon, or she was going to have to carry ten people back to the institute on her own. But then again, her eyes lingered on Tabitha for a moment; she could leave a few behind.

**(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())**

He watched from the shadows, from behind dark sunglasses despite the barely lit room. In one hand was a glass of bourbon that he didn't drink, in the other was a playing card that he flipped idly in between his fingers in subconscious movements.

It had been lucky that the girl had snuck out with the other foolish Xavier students, dividing herself from her protective teachers. But his work would have been _so _much easier if she hadn't gone to such a popular dance club. And if she had just gotten drunk with the rest of them, it would have been as simple as walking her out while her friends didn't notice until they woke up on in the alley behind the club the next morning, hung-over and pick pocketed out of all their money.

But that wouldn't have been nearly as much fun. Remy LeBeau was looking for a fight, a challenge, and as he watched the girl place a hand on her purple-haired friend's shoulder, suddenly snapping her away from her drunken haze, he knew that he would get one.

**No, Remy is not a good guy. But it's more complicated then that, so suck it up. And yes, I may or may not have an unhealthy obsession with him… mostly his eyes… mmmmmm eyes.**

**You know, I think I may have a thief fetish.**

**In case you didn't notice, I'll be disregarding the past of any characters that came up in the movies in minor parts (i.e. Psylocke… okay mainly just Psylocke)**

**I'm just going to throw this out there, but writing people talking in slurs is fun! Try it sometime, you just have to talk out loud as you type. So it's best not do try this while in a room with someone else who doesn't know what you're doing. ("No, mom, I'm not drunk or high or talking to imaginary friends.")**

**REVIEW! Because if you don't I frown :( **

**And remember, flames aren't for reviews; they're for burning things while laughing hysterically.**


	2. Devil eyes

**Ello, ello. Second Chappy, enjoy.**

After sobering Josh, it was like his power automatically knew how to fix the other drunks with the slightest effort on Rogue's part. Soon everyone was back to the way they were before the ridiculous amount of booze, although Rogue decided to skip the unconscious people, being as they wouldn't wake up for hours anyways.

And besides, they had more than earned their hangovers for the next morning.

With four people that needed to be carried home and six that were able to carry, Rogue decided that she had earned herself the right to go back to the mansion without a person slung over her shoulders.

Nori shifted Amara's weight uncomfortably for a moment, jogging lightly until she was walking in pace beside Rogue, who was leading the group through the streets and past strange looks they were getting from the other people walking by. From Rogue's other side, Cessily cleared her throat quietly, sheepishly, John resting heavily on her shoulders, snoring lightly and muttering about 'beautiful fire'.

"Rogue… I just wanted to say thanks. I mean, if you hadn't been there, then…" Cessily didn't finish, but there was a simultaneous shudder through the group as they thought of what Logan would have done to them if they had been found the next morning at, or rather behind, that bar.

"Don't thank me yet," Rogue murmured as they turned a corner onto an otherwise empty street, away from the funny looks, "We aren't exactly quite in the clear."

The mansion, one of the many branches that the Professor had owned, was on the outskirts of New Orleans. Most of the year it was just a giant empty building, but Storm had needed to take care of some 'business' in the Big Easy, so she decided that it was time for some of the older students to go on a field trip.

"Hey!" Sam called from slightly back, where he was lagging behind with Julian so that they could carry Josh's inhumanly heavy body between them, "I think Josh is coming to!"

A resounding groan confirmed his words before anything could be said. Both Sam and Julian let go immediately, dumping Josh heavily on the ground. The thump made Rogue wince. She was sure that Josh had a headache by now, yet another unfortunate side-effect of her power. Knocked out, killer headache, awful cognitive skills for a few hours after waking up, and probably a couple others that she didn't know about.

Josh growled slightly as he shakily attempted to pick himself up off the ground.

"God damn it, Sam. Did you have to just drop me as soon as I made the slightest noise?" He stood shakily to his feet, groaning and pressing his palms to his temples tenderly, "God _fuckity_ damn it, I feel like someone hit me over the head with a crowbar."

Before anything could be said to that, any rude or sarcastic comments that was sure to be on the tips of many of their tongues, there was a flash of metal, and Josh fell in a messy heap at Sam's feet.

Another flash, Julian went down.

Yet another flash and Betsy was unconscious.

The remaining x-men just stood there and gawked at their suddenly fallen friends for only a moment before years of training managed to kick in, all of them taking up defensive positions. Nori, now Surge in battle, and Cessily, now Mercury, both spun around, pressing their backs together.

Mercury's arms swelled and sharpened into sword-like weapons, her image inducer bracelet snapping right off her wrist. The pinkish skin flickered for a moment, then blinked out completely to expose her metal flesh. Surge pressed the index finger and thumb of her right gauntlet together, setting its controls to allow near-lethal electricity blasts through. Anyone hit by one of those wouldn't be able to move for at least a week. But they'd be alive… mostly. The excess energy she produced sparked and danced along her arms.

Rogue bent down, pulling off her gloves and placing a hand on both Magma and Pyro's foreheads where they lay at her feet, before taking several steps forward and touching Boom-Boom's arm. They wouldn't miss their powers at the moment anyways.

Cannonball walked forward until he was closer to the rest of them, power in numbers, and bent his knees slightly. That was all he had to do to prepare.

The four of them faced the apparently empty street, ready for a fight, knowing they would get one.

A dark figure fell from atop the building beside them, and landed neatly and silently in front of Surge, a long metal staff clutched in his hand.

A male, Rogue noted, wearing a long brown trench coat and with unevenly cut auburn hair falling into his face messily. There were dark sunglasses covering his eyes despite the lack of light. He brushed his hair back absently, an amused smirk spreading across his face as he looked at Surge glaring darkly at him, as if the bolts of electricity jumping off her skin were entertaining.

And Surge found that smirk infuriating. She grounded her sneakers into the asphalt, standing firm.

"Dead meat." She whispered

She pulled her arms back and then flung them both forward like she was throwing something heavy, electricity jumping from her arms and racing towards the man in a concentrated bolt of power.

His smirk grew.

Three quick sidesteps was all it took to evade Surge's attack completely; leaving scorch marks on the pavement were it _did_ hit. She clenched her fists hard, eyes blazing with pent up energy just dying to be let out, and punched at the air in his direction, sending a ball of voltage straight at him.

He swung his metal staff around, smacking Cannonball in the back and sending him stumbling several steps forward, just in time to be hit by Surge's attack without a chance for him to go 'cannonball'.

As Sam slouched forward, unconscious with little blue bolts of electricity still clinging to his hair, Surge cut off her own power for a moment in shock, her jaw dropping in disbelief, eyes darting back and forth between the him and the guy who took him out. How could he have timed that so perfectly?

This was all the opening he needed. He took three running steps forward, slamming his fist into her stomach, then grabbed her head between his hands as she doubled over in pain and brought in down onto his knee.

Rogue winced at the sickening smack it made as it connected.

Surge went down.

The man straightened up, wiping off imaginary dust from his arm, and calmly turning to look at Mercury, apparently his next opponent. Rogue shuffled forward slowly and reached out, placing her hand on Psylocke's forehead.

Mercury narrowed her eyes at the man, brandishing her sword-arms threateningly at him as she carefully side-stepped to unconscious bodies around them, trying to put some distance between their fallen friends and the fight, trying to keep them away from unnecessary harm.

The man chuckled as if her concern was amusing, holding his staff almost casually in one hand.

Mercury growled lowly before lunging at him, trying to knock the staff away with one arm while jabbing at him with the other. In a single smooth movement, he slid out of her way and slammed his weapon into the side of her head.

Mercury laughed lightly as it bounced off her with a clang, not even scuffing the shiny surface of her skin. Her body began to morph again, her arms becoming thinner as she added more of her body's mass into her hands to become giant orbs, each slightly larger than her head.

"Going to need to do better than that to take out someone made of metal." She said brazenly, extending sharp spikes from the orbs. Rogue moved sideways and gently touched Surge's arm.

The man just smiled as if she had just said something funny. He tucked his staff under his arm and pulled out a new-looking deck of cards, shuffling them idly.

"Metal, y' say?" he said in a heavy Cajun drawl as he continued to shuffle, "Well den, _petit_, dis is goin' t' be easier den I t'ought."

He pulled a card from the deck, a seven of clubs, and gripped tightly for a moment between his index finger and thumb.

It began to glow a soft pink colour.

Mercury smiled a little at the sight.

"Oooo," she said in amusement, "You turn things pink. Scary stuff."

The man smirked.

"Scary is right, petit," he murmured, the card glowing almost blindingly bright. Mercury sprang at him, swinging her arm-weapons towards him in a way that almost made Rogue groan. It was like Mercury was completely ignoring everything she had been learning at the Institute, Rogue herself spotted about four different ways to take her out before she even got close.

But apparently it wouldn't have even mattered if Mercury had actually paid attention to how she was attacking, because the man just bent the card slightly then sprang it towards her with a little '_flick'. _

_BOOM!_

The force of the explosion threw Mercury back. She landed hard.

Rogue's eyebrows shot up in almost impressed surprise. He made his own bombs.

That's… handy. For him anyways. And maybe soon for her too, she thought with a small flex of her fingers.

Mercury got to her feet slowly, her arms morphing back to normal as she looked up to glare at the man.

"Ya, scary." She muttered, getting into a proper fighting stance. This time she watched for any pink as she jumped at him, turning to liquid mid-air and spreading herself out like a giant net.

He barely had time to shove his hand in his pocket before she slammed into him, knocking him several steps back with her weight.

She wrapped her net around him tightly, slowly squeezing the breath out of him, trying to knock him out via lack of air.

Rogue saw his hand wiggle a bit, placing an exposed pinky on a strand of the net.

A moment later Mercury's entire body was glowing a brilliant magenta.

Immediately, Mercury started to unwind herself, one liquid strand at a time, obviously not wanting to become like that card. She wasn't sure what its fate had been, but she assumed it was dust by now.

"I wouldn' try t' let go jus' yet, petite."

Mercury stopped moving.

"Good girl. After all, de only t'ing keepin' y' from explodin' right now an' killin' all of y' friends is de fact dat I'm holdin' ont' y'. Ot'erwise," he poked John's limp form with the uncovered toe of his boot, "Everyone dies."

A hand appeared from Mercury's otherwise shapeless form, wrapping itself around the man's neck and holding fast as the rest of her drizzled towards the hand like water flowing up. She slowly turned back into a human shape; hand still wrapped all the way around his neck.

"Everyone would die," she said suspiciously, "Including you."

The man smiled, _again._

"Actually, petit, I wouldn't be harmed. Un peu bon side effect of m' powers, m' not affected by mon own explosions. An' anot'er t'ing," his voice lowered to a whisper, "Metal charges real well, an' if y' blow now, about half de neighbor'ood would go wit' y'."

Mercury pulled her lips away from her teeth, showing that she had sharpened them to points. Trying to intimidate him, but it obviously wasn't working, even though he had a metal vice around his neck.

"So, what? A stale mate? If I kill you, we all die, and if I let go, we all die except for you." She tightened her grip slightly, "I don't think I like either of those choices."

The man rolled his eyes.

"Well, actually, petit, I don' believe dat y'd kill me. Knock me out an' break a few bones, maybe, but y' x-men are too noble f' a kill."

"You haven't met Wolverine."

"Non, I haven', but let's put it dis way, petit." The pink glowing around her skin brightened, and Rogue could have sworn she heard a low whistling noise, "Let me go, or I release de charge wit' y' still holdin' on. _Once_ you've let go, I'll take away de pink." he smiled calmly, eyes still hidden by his hair, "Comprendre?"

Mercury glared at him.

"You're lying."

"If I'm not, dere's a chance y' friends will be spared. Remember? Everyone dyin'?"

Mercury loosened her grip slightly, unsure. The man sighed in annoyance, as if her needing to think about it was a burden.

"Always 'ave t' contemplate." He muttered. He whipped something out of his pocket and slammed it into Mercury's neck. She let out a scream as there was a loud zap, and then she went limp, her hand falling from his throat.

He grabbed her before she hit the ground, holding onto her arm with a tight grip for a moment. The pink glow coming from her skin completely disappeared, and he basically threw her down as soon as she wasn't in danger of exploding, stuffing the strange taser-like thing back in his pocket

He turned slowly, smiling as he faced Rogue, pulling out another card, a four of diamonds. She remained perfectly calm, gently tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear as she gazed at the sunglasses, trying to see behind them to find some sort of emotion. There was nothing revealed, just the small smirk across his lips, tight at the corners. Strained, almost.

"An' last, mais definitely no' least, de lovely Rogue 'erself." He pointed his staff at her in a mock scolding gesture, "Y', chere, are une difficile femme t' find. I been lookin' f' you f' mont's now, an' where do y' turn up? In mon very own city."

Rogue raised an eyebrow skeptically, slowly side stepping until her back was to her fallen friends and she faced him straight-on. First Magneto, then Stryker, and now some dumbass with a metal pole. A dumbass who was really _good _with a metal pole.

Wait, that didn't come out right.

"Looking for _me? _Gee, Ah'm flattered and all, but after the first few attempted kidnappings, it starts to get a little old." She clenched her left hand into a fist, Magma's powers taking affect in the form of a ball of fire incasing her hand. The man chuckled darkly, twirling his staff around his hand.

"I'm gonna guess dat means dat y' gonna put up a fight?" She didn't answer, busy tapping into the excess energy that the lights lining the street were giving off with Surge's powers. He paused in his staff twirling for a moment, stroking the thin stubble on his chin as if thoughtfully, "Well, I _do _need some exercise, an' I was startin' t' get tired of electrocuting people." He resumed the twirling, this time a little faster, the metal starting to glow a faint pink. He flashed his teeth in a confident grin, "An' it's hard t' say non t' a beautiful femme…"

Logan's psyche snarled harshly, a small part of it breaking through Rogue's own lips and making the attacker, or kidnapper apparently, smirk.

_Beat the crap out of him, Stripes. Then steal his money and spit on his bloody face, kick him in the balls a few times and break both of his legs and all of his fingers…_

Rogue couldn't help but smirk as Logan-psyche continued to list things she should do to him after beating the crap out of him. Every now and then one of the other psyches would add something to the list. Apparently mystery-man wasn't very popular with the voices in her head. Oh, never mind. Tabitha was gushing about how hot he was and listing _other_ kinds of things Rogue should do to him.

Uck.

Lifting her flaming hand calmly, Rogue gently used Pyro's powers to increase its size until it was as large as a pumpkin, curling the flames into demonic shapes with little tweaks of her fingers. Her sleeve, though by now engulfed by flame, remained un-charred. She waited for him to make the first move.

He waited for the same.

_Act like you're going to attack, like you're going towards the storefront to attack him from the side. But deke him out last second, and corner him in that ally over there. It stops about a meter in. _

_Logan, what the bloody hell is a deke?_

_Shut up, Betsy. Rogue knows what I'm talking about._

Rogue smiled to herself. For all the pain that the psyches caused her, they were awfully helpful in fights. Always throwing in fight tactics and letting her dip into all the experience that went beyond her years. It always gave her an edge.

She clenched her fist, increasing the heat and making the fire a blinding white. Gently lifting it from her arm and into the air with a tweak of her wrist, compressing it into a small orb of brilliant light.

"Tell ya what, Cajun," she growled, "How about ya run away now like the coward Ah'm sure ya are deep down, and save yourself one hell of a beating." His smirk faltered for a moment, then returned it full force.

"Not a chance, chere."

"Well, alright then."

She threw the fire directly towards his face as one might throw a baseball, knowing it would burn out long before reaching him. He took a step back from the flame automatically as it let out an intense burst of light less then a foot from his nose. Almost getting his face burned off made for a decent distraction.

Converting the electricity absorbed from surrounding streetlights into pure energy, Rogue sprinted towards him with a burst of super-speed as if she were trying to push him onto the empty road. He swung his staff in a sweeping motion, expecting this and trying to trip her by her ankles.

She easily jumped over the staff, jabbing a fiery hand towards him as if to punch his arm holding the metal rod, than swiftly ducked under it as he whirled the weapon up and towards her shoulder. She elbowed him sharply in his ribs as he finished swinging the staff in the opposite direction.

For just a second, he lost his balance, and Rogue used this second to swing around her leg and plant a hard kick in his back, forcing him to stumble into the dead-end ally.

He laughed lightly as she grabbed his shoulders and slammed his back against the brick wall, the bare skin of her face dangerously close to his as she glared threateningly at him.

"Why chere, if y' wanted t' get close t' me, all y' 'ad t' do was ask" he said in a husky voice, his warm breath brushing up against her cheek. He smelt like cigarettes, something spicy, and… was that cinnamon?

Rogue grit her teeth. It didn't matter what this guy smelt like, she needed him out fast.

She removed her bare hand from his shoulder, reaching out to grab his face. _His_ hand shot out, catching _her_ shoulder before contact could be made and roughly pushing her back violently, loosening her hold on him enough for him to reach into his pocket and pull out a card. He charged it lightly then threw it at her chest, pushing her back even farther.

Rogue growled under her breath, dipping into Betsy's powers and sending an invisible psycho-blast at his head. It slammed him directly in the forehead, but nothing happened. Well, not nothing, per say, he did blink in slight annoyance, but his nervous system wasn't paralyzed either, as it should have been.

As Betsy's telepathic powers manifested into Rogue in its full strength, she became aware of a loud buzzing noise that was apparently coming from his direction, masking any thoughts that he may be having as he pulled out more cards. Did he have some sort of mental shield?

Or maybe he was literally thoughtless.

Rogue made a fist, a glowing purple knife appearing out of thin air. She swung it around, attempting to cut it through his head to disrupt his nervous system manually, as the distance attack wasn't exactly working.

He sidestepped her attack, grabbing the wrist holding the knife and swinging her body around until her back was pressed up to his front, wrapping his other arm around her tightly. He pressed on the inside of her wrist hard with his thumb, making her hand pop open automatically. The blade faltered for a moment, then blinked out all together.

She hissed in anger, squirming to get her arms out of his grip. He chuckled in her ear.

"Mon Dieu, chere. Whatever y' do, don' stop wiggling like that." He said playfully. She immediately stopped squirming and bowed her head, as if in embarrassment.

"You're disgusting." She growled.

He leaned slightly forward, like he was going to whisper something else in her ear, but as soon as he was close enough she jerked her head back, slamming it into his forehead.

She was probably just as disoriented as he was, but she still managed to push out of his grasp. She turned instantly, filling her hands with little Boom-Boom bombs. She threw them at him, letting them all go off at once, then refilled her palms and threw some more. They sounded like a million firecrackers going off all at once.

Before he had a chance to recover from the waves of tiny explosions of light and nips of heat, Rogue had tackled him, tumbling to the ground and rolling with him for a moment, his glasses knocked off at some point during the scuffle as they both fought for the upper hand.

With a loud thump, Rogue managed to pin him down firmly, his eyes squeezed shut as she dug her nails into his upper-arms.

She smiled wickedly as she leaned towards his face, not bothering to try and use her hands as that would once again give him a chance to get free.

She firmly pressed her cheek's skin against his, waiting for her powers to absorb his life force and effectively knock him out. After he was unconscious, she would just need to drag all her friends, plus one failed kidnapper, home and somehow explain to Storm why they were out in the first place to get jumped by some crazy guy. At least Logan would be proud of her being the one to ultimately keeping everyone safe.

It took her a moment to realize that she wasn't feeling the pull.

There was no flood of memories, no new voice jabbering in the background of her thoughts, no sudden feeling of extra awareness that came with the energy siphoned from someone.

She sat there for what felt like forever, her skin pressed closely to that of the stranger's, and yet nothing happening. She felt a little thrill in the pit of her stomach despite herself. She hadn't touched someone without ill effects since before her mutation manifested.

But this wasn't someone she was supposed to want to touch; this was an enemy that she actually _needed _to use her mutation on. And right this second, it was a bad thing that her mutation wasn't working.

Damn you irony.

She released one of his arms, grabbing his face with the free hand just to be sure she wasn't hallucinating.

She barely had time to register that even then her powers weren't working before his hand shot out towards her, a sharp prick in her neck where his fingers touched her. She lifted up her hand to feel a dart sticking out of her flesh.

Aw, fuck.

Her vision blurred almost instantly, dragging her into a numb blankness. But right before blacking out she managed to make eye contact with the kidnapper.

There must have been some crazy stuff in that dart, because she could have sworn that his eyes were the eyes of the devil.

Red on black.

**I just want to put in a point about Remy's accent. It has come to my attention that hardly any h's are used in the French language, so most words with a th or even a h will be altered slightly, incase you were wondering what the hell a 'neighbor'ood' or an 'anot'er' was, just substitute the ' for a h.**

**I didn't think it would be so much fun writing about Mercury fighting. I may have to do it again sometime :P.**

**Review, because not knowing what my beloved readers think makes me sad.**

**And flames, as amazingly awesome and epic as they are, aren't good for several things. ****1.**** Cleaning up a giant gas spill. ****2.**** Smoking ****3.**** Reviewing. **_**Do not try any of these things, as they are GOD AWEFUL IDEAS.**_


	3. Irony

**YAY! Chapter three. You know the drill, me no own you no sue ect. ect. Enjoy**  
-

Remy pushed Rogue's limp form off of him, eyes frantically searching for his misplaced sunglasses. 

She had seen his eyes, he knew she had. Right before the drug in the dart had taken effect, under the surprise and mild annoyance, he had felt a pulse of shock come from her before eyelids flickered closed and she fell unconscious. 

He spotted the damn things lying a few feet away, dirty but otherwise unharmed.

Thank God for that.

He reached out and snatched them up, slamming them onto his face in relief. 

His eyes weren't something to be proud of, and if the pain of having red on black eyes from birth was any indication, his eyes were something to hide.

He glanced over at Rogue with a bitter quirk to his smile. It was almost funny. He didn't care if she thought he was a criminal with next to no morals, if she thought he was an uncaring fool who had an unhealthy obsession with violence, if she thought he was he was a kidnapping lackey.

He mostly didn't care about her thinking those things because they were mostly true.

What he couldn't stand her to think, however, was that he was a demon or the devil or something similar just because of his eyes.

Because he _wasn't_ the devil. Not literally, anyways. The whole '_Le __Diable__ Blanc' _nickname thing didn't really count.

But, with any luck, he would never see Rogue again after tonight. So why does it matter if she had seen his eyes?

The answer to that was simple: it has always mattered before.

When she remembered him, it wouldn't be for being a strong fighter or for being a charmer or even for being a scary figure. She'd remember the eyes, and that isn't what Remy LeBeau wanted to be remembered for.

He stood to his feet tenderly, testing out his legs to see if there was any damage. Rogue had gotten in quite a few good hits. Rolling his neck experimentally, he noted that he was a little bruised, and his shoulders were a little sore from being pinned so violently. But other than that he was fine. And besides, he wouldn't feel a thing by the morning.

Rogue hadn't been relying heavily on the powers she had taken from her friends, Remy had noticed, mostly sticking to traditional fighting and her own mutation, only using the mutations of others to give herself small advantages.

It probably hadn't even occurred to her to shock him with the blue-haired Japanese girl's powers when she had first pinned him. Maybe she didn't even know to use borrowed powers offensively, maybe she had just as much control over the mutations as the people she took them from had when they first manifested.

If that was so, then **his** powers wouldn't have done her much good if she _had_ absorbed him. Hell, she'd probably end up blowing up her friends herself. Absorbing him wouldn't have been good for anyone.

But that just begged the question; why _hadn't_ she absorbed him? He'd known to avoid contact with the Rogue's skin, but he had obviously failed at that the moment she pressed her cheek against his.

He had thought that that was it, a game over, she would know everything now and there was no way he could snatch her.

But nothing happened.

Rogue had obviously been surprised by the lack of effect, because that surprise had been what gave him an opening to drug her.

He wondered _why_ her powers hadn't affected him. It probably wasn't the control issue, considering it was well known that she _couldn't_ touch people and always used her powers on them because of her lack of control, not the other way around

So, what then? Was it just immunity, something in his gene's that automatically made him unaffected by her mutation? Was it a little power hiccup that came at a bad time for her?

Those were all thoughts that he had every right to wonder about, but for now, it wasn't a good idea for him to linger at the scene of the crime. If someone came this way, seeing all those unconscious bodies and him just standing there with a weapon, it might cause a_ few _suspicious.

Collapsing his bo staff will a little twist and a _click, _he stuffed it into one of the inside pockets of his trench coat.

He knelt down next to the unconscious girl with the white streak in her hair, yanking the empty dart away from her neck and scooping her up, bridal style. Anyone walking by would probably assume they were a couple, out for the night late enough for her to fall asleep. All he had to do was look not creepy about it, more like a loving boyfriend then a crazy kidnapper, and no one would question it.

Ah, would you look at that. More irony. 

He rounded the corner, headed for an unpopulated street, any unpopulated street that wasn't covered in unconscious people.

He shifted Rogue slightly, moving her weight over to be supported by only one arm as he walked. Her hair pressed against his face for just a moment. All it took was for him to be inhaling through his nose at that moment for her scent to hit him.

Mmm, she smelt like... vanilla... and coffee... and hazelnuts.

He couldn't resist pressing his face to her hair again and inhaling deeply. Like a coffee shop, that's what she smelt like. He could just picture her; in one of those small shops that was half a book store and half a café. Maybe sitting at a small table alone with an open book and a steaming cup.

He shook the picture from his mind as he turned down another street, one that was completely empty.

He grimaced, remembering that she was just the cargo, just the thing he needed to steal, as he pulled out 'the accursed cell phone', dialling quickly with one hand. He held it up to his ear, tensing in fearful anticipation.

_Ring. Ring. Ring._

"Hello?" a male voice on the other end answered, sounding bored.

Remy could have sighed in relief. It wasn't _her. _It was _her_ minion #1, as Remy liked to think of the young boy as. His name was really Caleb or Kevin or something like that. Remy couldn't remember. Although he remembered the kid's code name.

"Wither." Remy greeted professionally, "I 'ave de girl. Ready f' pick up."

The boy laughed coldly into the receiver, making Remy roll his eyes. Oh, Joy. He was going back to trying to be scary.

"Well, it certainly took you long enough, _Gambit._" He said frostily, "It's been, what? Seven months? Where'd she turn up?"

Remy grit his teeth in annoyance. Wither wasn't as bad to talk to as _her, _he was still annoying as hell.

"Jus' get de pick up ready. _She _said dat y'd already know where t' find me." He growled the words into the receiver, his patience already running thin

"Oh, hush. I'll send Blink over to you now."

There were some clicking and ruffling noises, and Remy heard several muffled words being exchanged. The phone clicked a few more times on the other end, and Wither's voice was suddenly loud and clear again, "Were there any other mutants with her?"

Remy froze for a moment, his hold on Rogue automatically tightening. He should have known that would be asked.

_She _was collecting mutants for something big. He didn't know what for, but considering it was _her, _he was willing to bet that it wasn't going to be pleasant. 'Any mutants of any interest you encounter, report them to me,' _she_ had said to him.

He almost answered 'yes' to Wither's question.

But for just a moment, he remembered of how they had been partying, like all ordinary, irresponsible teenagers did at least once.

That was life lessons in the making, that was _life _in process. He couldn't just end all the possible futures for them. It was bad enough he was taking those chances from Rogue.

"No," Remy answered solemnly, "She was alone. Left the her boarding school for a night on the town."

There was a long pause on the other end.

"Well, that's too bad. Blink's coming your way"

The line went dead.

Remy squeezed his eyes shut, mentally counting down.

Three

Two

One

There was a bright flash, one that he could see even through his eyelids _and_ the heavy sunglasses.

The back of his eyelids burned a bright red to the point of being able to see the tiny veins that weaved through the skin. They stayed like this for at least ten seconds

Then the light blinked out, just like that.

Remy dared to crack one eye open, then the other when the first didn't burn into ash.

Blink was standing in the middle of the sidewalk, right in front of him. Her blank, completely white eyes seeming to stare directly at him. He would be lying if he said that it wasn't unnerving to be looked at by someone without irises, or even pupils.

She was pink, to say the very least. Her skin was a pale pink, not quite a possible non-mutant shade, and her hair was a dark pink. Matching the color of her hair were tattoo-like markings on her face: a diamond resting in between her brows, two small triangles set above each eyebrow's tips, and an upside-down triangle that rested on her cheek directly below her left eye.

She held out a hand to him, regarding him without the slightest hint of emotion coming off of her.

As far as Remy's empathic senses could tell, Blink never felt anything, ever.

"Come on, _She's_ been waiting long enough." Her voice was deep and rich, like the voice you'd expect to hear from a black woman, only with a funny accent. One that wasn't quite like a Caribbean accent, but wasn't quite African.

Remy stuffed the cell phone in his pocket and gripped Rogue a little more closely, with both arms. Teleporting with Blink wasn't exactly fun. Rogue was lucky to be unconscious, if anything.

He reached out and took Blink's hand, squeezing his eyes shut as the cold light engulfed all three of them.

A second later and it was as if they had never been on the empty street in New Orleans.

**Sooooo. A little more depth in this chapter, some bits and pieces may have just clicked in this chapter. **

**REVIEW! Because if you don't I will have no choice but to go to my corner and think about life. And trust me, no one wants that to happen. EVER.**

**And remember kids. Flames are only fun when not included in reviews.**


	4. Deities?

**Chapter number four: Deities? **

Rogue was warm.

She was pressed against something soft and radiating heat, its warmth sinking right to her bones. It stirred random, good memories that weren't even hers. But they were good none the less.

A loving mother wrapping her in a warm blanket. Sitting in front of a roaring fire with a warm drink after a long day of playing in the cold snow outside. Raising her face to the searing African sun and letting it caress her skin as she took a break in between thievery jobs.

It didn't matter that none of it made sense, as she _didn't _have a loving mother, she would _never _willingly go out in snow, and _not once_ in her life had she gone to Africa, much less to steal from people there. She could still stay like this forever, enjoying the happy memories of others. And just because the memories weren't hers, didn't mean she couldn't enjoy the pleasant feeling herself.

So warm, so nice.

Cold hands touched her shoulder through the thin fabric of her shirt. She flinched away from them, snuggling deeper into the warmth. Running her hands over the warm object, she found that it was the perfect size to wrap her arms around. So she did.

So warm, so nice.

There was a frosty laugh, making her cringe. Trying to get farther away from the cold, back to the warm. She held the warmth tighter.

So warm, so nice.

"Looks like she's rather fond of you, Gambit."

The voice sounded far off, a mile away. The next voice, however, rumbled right by her ear, coming from the warm thing.

"Ya, tell dat t' 'er when she's awake an' kickin'. Tried t' kill me." A small rumbling laugh, "et she came close, aussie."

Rogue grumbled in confusion. She tried to kill the warmth? To get rid of it? That didn't make sense, the warmth was nice. How long had it been since she wasn't cold? Years, and years, and years. Nothing had ever been able to chase the chills away.

Nothing except this warmth.

So warm, so nice.

She hugged it even closer, sighing contently

"Maybe you should put her down. Looks to me like she's getting a little clingy."

"Oh, go tongue de whore. I'm actually enjoyin' dis."

"_She_ is not a whore!"

"Sorry, y' right, _she_ isn'. _You_ are."

"You know, Gambit, it isn't wise to talk of her in such ways."

"I'm not talkin' badly of de femme, I'm jus' sayin' y' 'er whore."

"But you're talking badly of _me. _I am her most devoted servant, her second in command. She respects me."

Another bitter laugh near Rogue's ear.

"Respect? I could get 'er respect too if I became 'er man-whore. But I 'ave somet'ing better. I 'ave _self_-respect."

"I... I'm not... You..." the voice suddenly stopped, taking on a new tone with its next words. "My lady." Rogue could picture the owner of the voice bowing.

Even in her foggy mentality, she could recognize _that_ tone. It was the kind of reverence shown by devote religious people to their gods. Complete and utter faith and conviction.

"Now Wither, be nice to our guest." The voice grew louder, like it was coming closer with each step. This one was somehow colder then the boy's, tenfold. Rogue cringed against the warmth, holding it tightly.

So warm, so nice.

She didn't ever want to go back to being cold.

"Young Gambit has done well," the frigid voice continued, "Look how he has brought the girl to us, completely unharmed. And considering the amount of information available, I am quite surprised he found her so quickly." a small frosty chuckle made Rogue grip the warmth closer, "And she seems to like him so much already, maybe I should let her keep him."

Gloved hands suddenly gripped Rogue's wrists, detangling her arms from around the warmth. She tried to make a small noise of protest, but it died before it reached her lips.

"Dat's alright," the closer voice was farther away now, lacking the rumble, "I'll jus' be takin' mon payment an' leavin'."

And the warmth was suddenly gone, the jolt of a cold, flat surface taking its place. Rogue shivered violently, her mind slowly reaching through the haze of unconsciousness thanks to the sudden temperature change, almost as affective as a bucket of ice water. She cracked open her eyes, the groan she had failed to release earlier bubbling up now.

It was dark, wherever she was, but there were soft lights, soft _red_ lights. The ceiling was uneven, and looked like it was made of rock, rough and unpolished. A giant slab of relatively flat rock used as a makeshift roof.

Her thoughts were delayed in taking all of this in, her eyes lazily trailing imaginary lines on the ceiling's surface.

"Oh, look, she wakes."

It was a male's voice, loosely familiar.

_Snap out of it Stripes,_ _there's danger here, this is no time to be slow._

_Oh, cut her some slack, Logan. She's been drugged._

_I swear to God Kitty, if you don't shut up in five seconds…_

_You'll what? Cut your imaginary claws through my imaginary body? Psh, you need better threats. _

_OR I'LL BRING SABERTOOTH OVER HERE._

…_Am I supposed to care?_

_ROGUE, PLEASE JUST GET UP!_

Rogue flinched lightly at the sound of Logan's voice reverberating around her head painfully, making her temples throb lightly. Ouch, that was going to hurt like a bitch for the next few hours.

As she had soon figured out as more and more psyches started to pile up in her mind, psyche-Logan was easily angered by the other psyches, especially the teenage girl ones. The resulting yells were perhaps her most common power-related cause for headaches.

But at least that angry voice in her head helped get the point across. It wasn't safe for her to be just lying there; obviously the people surrounding her weren't looking to bake her a cake or something.

With a small groan of effort, she pushed herself into a sitting position, clutching at her forehead with the hand that she wasn't using to keep herself from falling back over.

She bit back a profanity as the room spun and she almost fell back again. Maybe psyche-Logan wasn't the only reason for her throbbing head. What the hell had these people done to her?

She slowly craned her neck to the side, seeing several figures surrounding her that sloppily shifted and spun in her vision, though they weren't actually moving. From what she could tell, there were three woman and three men, one of which was about twice as large as all the others.

Slowly, the figures started to come into focus. The first person she could loosely see was a girl; with chin length black hair and wearing a leather catsuit that someone seemed to have cut off right above her bust without bothering to re-seam it, leaving the edge rough and frayed.

Next to her was a girl with short cropped dark pink hair, light pink skin, and funny tattoos on her face. It looked like she had the same catsuit as the other girl, except hers had kept the sleeves and instead gotten a diamond cut out from her naval to right below her breastbone

One man was wearing tight black clothing, like a second skin, and a long black coat, reaching almost to his knees. The other was wearing a tux, complete with a straight black tie and gelled back hair.

The third man, the tall one, looked as if he had dressed his top half in body armor (even wrapping his entire head in a red scarf until all that could be seen were two glowing red dots where his eyes should have been) then forgotten to dress his bottom half, save for a pair of what appeared to be armoured tighty-whities. Or at least that's what it looked like to Rogue's drugged state.

The last female, and the person who was clearly in charge, had waist length black hair, shiny and thick at her back. Her clothing consisted of a black corset, a black thong, a black garter with a dagger tucked into it, and black high heel boots.

And that was all she had on.

Well, she had a funny little choker around her neck, but other than that it was like she had stepped off of a lingerie commercial… then stripped down.

Honest to God, Rogue almost asked if they were prostitutes. But a combination of her delayed tongue, about a dozen protesting psyches, and a touch of common sense stopped her.

Considering they had drugged and kidnapped her, she doubted they would respond very kindly to her asking if they were hookers.

Rogue tried to look into all of their faces (except 'Mr. I only have armor on half my body') but the drug still left her vision a little fuzzy around the edges. She grimaced at them as she squinted her eyes, trying to discern any features.

"Uh… Hi."

There was a beat of silence.

"I think you may have caused a bit of brain damage, Gambit." It was the guy wearing the super duper tight black clothing. His face looked like a colourless smudge at the moment, but it was getting better. She thought that maybe she could see a slightly darker smudge where his eyes should have been.

"She's fine. De stuff I gave 'er will jus' make 'er stupid f' un couple o' minutes." That one was a person she couldn't see. She started to turn her head to look at him, but a sudden dizzy spell stopped her in the attempt.

"Why'd you have to drug her in the first place?"

"Because, _Wither, _I wasn' supposed t' 'urt 'er."

Rogue slowly tried to comprehend what was being said, each word registering individually as she tried to find meaning in them.

Something about brain damage _*grimace in pain* _(let's not rule that possibility out). Then receiving something and… being stupid because of it. A drug… and Wither… and not hurting her, whoever her was.

Wait.

Wither?

Rogue knew that name. Except she usually called Wither something else. What was it? It had started with a K.

Calvin? No, wait, that starts with a C. Ken? No. Kirby? Maybe… no wait, that was a squishy pink thing. Right

…K… K…K…

"Kevin." The name slipped from her lips the moment she realized the name that had been escaping her. Wither's real name was Kevin.

The woman with the slutty clothing, the slutti_est _clothing, raised an eyebrow in slight surprise, shooting a slightly accusing glance at Kevin.

"Wither? Do you know the Rogue?"

There was several seconds of silence, than Kevin cleared his throat. Even to Rogue, it sounded guilty.

"No, of course not."

No one looked convinced, Rogue could tell by the way they were holding themselves. She couldn't help but giggle at Kevin's poor attempt at a lie.

"Ah guess Ah didn' know ya _well_, but Cessily's been worried sick 'bout ya. She spent _forever _looking for ya. Every junkyard we came across, she'd look for some of your artwork." Rogue frowned, remembering Cessily's obsession, "She never found anything, and with the X-Men's connections, that's saying something. Where've ya been hiding?"

More silence.

"Wither." The voice of the unknown person growled, "Is she sayin' dat _y' knew where she was all along an' didn' bot'er to say anyt'ing?" _There was more silence, more guilty silence, "So let me get dis straight. Y' send me on a wild goose chase, wit' no more information den _''er name is Rogue an' she's a mutant' _and y' already knew where she was?" There was an angry laugh, "What de 'ell!"

"An X-Man? She's an _X-man?_" the woman with chin-length hair practically growled.

Rogue finally succeeded in turning her head completely to look at the man with the Louisiana accent. Her eyes started at his feet, going from the metal plated combat boots to the black pants to the bright red shirt to the brown trench coat (with a million pockets) to his face.

Auburn hair, dark sunglasses, familiar features…

Oh ya.

He's the guy who _kidnapped _her. The asshole.

"You!" Rogue yelled, wincing at the loudness of her own voice. She tried to stand, failing as a wave of vertigo hit her hard. She groaned as she clutched her head between her hands in pain, "What did ya do to me? What do ya want with me?"

The head woman smiled softly and knelled next to Rogue, earning a scowl and a low hiss.

"Don't be too hard on Gambit, Rogue," the woman said in her cold voice. A shiver ran down Rogue's spine, "_I_ hired him. And his price was certainly one that was difficult to meet."

Rogue never saw 'Gambit' look away in shame.

"Alrighty then, let me rephrase the question," Rogue tried her best to look menacing, though she was sure the ache of her head reflected onto her face. But her every word still managed to drip with disrespect, "What the _hell _do _you _want with me?"

The woman smiled at Rogue, flashing unnaturally white teeth at her.

"Ah, such a young little rebellious spirit. You know Rogue; the two of us aren't all that different. Rogue and Selene. We're two of the same."

Rogue shot a look at 'Selene's' rather disturbing clothing, then at the company she was keeping, then at the cave-like room with an over-polished floor and two doors that they were in. Well, whatever they were alike in; it wasn't fashion, friends, or room design taste. When Rogue didn't say anything, Selene continued.

"You know what we both are, Rogue?" Selene asked with a little more smile, "We're _killers. _Killers by birth_._ What you seem to think is a curse. But I can tell you, Rogue, that being a killer does not make us cursed. We are powerful, can decide who lives and who dies with a bat of an eye. We have the best ways to kill on the planet," Her smile widened, her gaze intense, "Being killers makes us _deities._"

Rogue bared her teeth like she had seen Wolverine do so many times as she growled at the insane woman. The haziness faded slightly as her heartbeat started to beat faster with anger.

"_Deities?_" she growled, "As in _Goddesses? _I'm terribly sorry, _Selene, _but I'm no _deity. _And neither is anyone else here." Selene's fake smile disappeared, replaced by a bitter glare that would have made most people quake in fear.

Rogue wasn't most people.

"No, my dear, _I_ am not a Goddess. But we can fix that. All I need are your services in my Inner Circle. Take a good look around, child. All these mutants around you are _killers, _just like us. We are all destined for greatness. And if we band together, immortality."

Rogue swept a look around all of the people around her, an amused smirk spreading onto her lips.

Oh dear, and she'd been under the impression that they were prostitutes.

"Okay lady, Ah don't know what's wrong with ya, but could ya _please _not involve me in it? I'm starting to get sick of people just thinking they can pluck me up and I'll join their cause."

Selene's calm smile returned.

"Perhaps _they_ did expect that. But _I_ have been around longer then you can imagine, and I know that a little bargaining is always necessary. All I have to do is find something you can't say no to."

Rogue laughed shortly, the haziness of the drug all but gone.

"And, what, pray tell, would that be?"

Selene leaned forward, her breath brushing against Rogue's cheek. It was cold, like the woman had no body heat of her own.

"Oh, Rogue, what else could it be?" She placed her bare palm on Rogue's cheek, digging her sharp nails into the tender untouched flesh, "You crave touch. And you know what the best part of this bargain is? I can make good on it. All you have to say is _yes_"

To say that Rogue didn't consider the offer at all would have been a badly told lie. The cure had gone off the market after the big Alcatraz fiasco, and sometimes Rogue still wishes she could take back her decision of staying a mutant, regretted passing up on the opportunity of living a normal life.

But she hadn't taken the cure for a reason.

And besides, the whole _'all these mutants around you are __**killers**__' _bit was a little unnerving. Not to mention that when offering a _girl_, who has a _boy_friend, the ability to touch while another _girl _is touching her cheek, things can get a little uncomfortable.

Rogue smiled…

"_No_."

…And punched Selene in the face.

Or at least she tried. The fist didn't quite get the whole way there. Selene just looked at it dully, and it stopped in the air. Not abruptly, per say, more like it hit an invisible wall made of molasses, the fist sinking into it and stopping after a few inches. It was _something_. Telekinesis, force field, an actual invisible person, Rogue didn't know. But her hand was stuck.

Rogue could move her wrist and elbow, but the hand itself was completely immobile, suspended in the air.

Suddenly a dagger, seemingly made of bone and razor sharp, was pressed to her windpipe.

"Don't test me," Selene hissed, pressing the dagger down a little harder. Just enough to draw a trickle of blood, "I'm not above killing you."

_Oh, bite me._

But Rogue didn't dare say it out loud. Not with a dagger a flick away from killing her, and a clearly mentally unstable woman holding said dagger.

"Blink, I think Rogue needs time to think over our offer." She drew back the dagger and slid it back into the garter, "Take her to the wooden one."

The pink woman nodded once, face completely devoid of any emotion, then reached out and gripped Rogue's arm.

For just a moment, she locked eyes with the kidnapper, Gambit, and wondered what her price had been.

A cold flash of pink light later and they were gone.

So cold. So unkind.

Remy watched as Blink teleported her away, trying not to care as the residue of her hatred for him lingered in the back of his mind. His empathy was handy, it really was, but sometimes it was painful to feel the anger of others directed towards him.

"Why the wooden cell?" It was Wither asking.

Wither, the asshole. All along, he had known exactly where to find Rogue, and had kept that information to himself for _months._

Months.

_Months _he'd been searching almost blindly, never knowing what would happen if he came back empty handed.

_Months _that could have been saved if Wither wasn't such a damn douche bag!

"Because, Wither, she's going to have a new cellmate soon. And we can't have anything inorganic for him to blow up." Selene looked directly at Remy, the beginnings of a cruel smile tugging at the corners of her lips. For a second, Remy thought his heart had stopped. Maybe it did.

Organic. He couldn't charge organic objects, couldn't make them _blow up_. A cell to hold _him_ would have to have nothing inorganic for him to charge.

No.

"But… y' can' mean me," His voice sounded so strained even to his own ears, the usual calm charade shattering, "I brought 'er 'ere, y' said dat if I got y' de Rogue…"

Selene interrupted.

"Oh, yes, you did get her. And without any injury, too. Very impressive, Gambit. But I'm afraid you broke a different deal." Selene took out the dagger again and began to finger the sharp blade thoughtfully, "I told you that _any_ mutants of _any_ interest that you encounter, _report them to me. _And, considering she was with nine other mutants when you picked her up, I'd say you failed at that." She jutted her chin out in his direction, "Senyaka?"

The giant in armour grabbed Remy's shoulder, roughly pushing him towards one of the two small doors cut into the cave-like room.

"My payment!" Remy yelled over his shoulder, "My payment! Jus' give me my payment now!"

Selene gestured for Senyaka to stop for a moment.

"Now now, Gambit. That would be a reward for bad behaviour, and we can't have that. And come to think of it," She reached out and grabbed the neck to his trench coat, grinning as she glanced at Senyaka, "I'm feeling a little hungry. Maybe I should take one of them for a meal."

The coat was ripped from his back, literally tearing clean in two.

"Give him something else to wear, so that he doesn't have anything chargeable on him."

Remy struggled, desperately trying to get loose from Senyaka's grip.

"Den why are y' puttin' me in a cell wit' _her?_"

"Because Wither's right, she _did_ seem to be so fond of you while she was drugged. And also, it amuses me."

It _amuses_ her? The damn sadist.

Chappy FOUR IS DONE! Yay! You wouldn't believe how hard it was for me to get this on paper. BUT IT BE DONE! And onto the next chappy!

Review, because they make me happy inside :D

And also, flames are only good for setting people you don't like on fire, not reviews.


	5. New Living Arrangements

**I'm looking for a ROMY loving beta reader for this fic, anyone interested put it in a PM. Only requirement is to have a beta profile.**

**My BRILLIANT excuse for coming up with this chapter so late is actually a chain of excuses **

**1.I moved… rooms… twice… which took a while for some reason.**

**2.I wrote this whole chapter in Remy's POV, read over it and decided to change the POV back over to Rogue. Then it took forever to edit, and edit, and edit... because I wasn't happy with it. Also, the next chapter (and possibly the next, and the next…) were originally a part of this chapter. But it took almost an hour to read over once, so I split it up. And let me tell you, it was LONG. About 30 pages. **

** was mean and gave me lots of homework D:**

**()^o^()^o^()^o^()^o^()^o^()^o^()^o^()**

Rogue's eyes burned with spots that the pink light had left behind in her vision. She wondered if Blink's stare was so blank and unnerving because _she_ had been blinded by her own teleportation. The pink mutant never seemed to focus on anything, always staring blankly ahead. Though at one point Rogue could have sworn that the pupil-less eyes had been directed at _her_.

Blink had taken her to a wooden cell, though it looked more like the inside of a cattle truck, with several tiny air holes lining the wood rather than bars. This let a limited amount of reddish light through, highlighting the box's emptiness.

The wood looked like it had _just_ been cut from the trees not a day ago, no one even bothering to sand it down smooth. It even still looked green in some areas.

Blink pointed to a slight elevation in the floor that had what looked like a thin cotton sheet on it.

"Bed." Her voice was that of a Black woman, with some kind of Caribbean accent. But it also sort of sounded like Headmistress Monroe's faint accent at the same time. Rogue couldn't place it, exactly.

Blink's finger moved to a slightly blocked off corner, with two smaller walls overlapping in a way so you could get to whatever lay behind fairly easily while still obstructing the view.

"Bathroom."

She lowered her hand

"Meals come twice a day. Bucket of water and sponge comes once a week for washing." Rogue half-shuttered. For a moment she wondering how they'd even get the stuff in. There was no door, and no other openings in the walls other then the air holes. "Hopefully you will have joined and be out of here before then."

Blink's blank gaze, without a doubt, locked on Rogue for a moment, dissipating all possibility that Blink was blind. Rogue crossed her arms in front of her chest defiantly, jutting her chin out.

"And if I never agree to join?"

Blink turned her back to her, a pink glow starting to form in the small of her back.

"Then don't forget, once a week."

The pink flash left Rogue blinded all over again.

Blinking away the spots, she stood there for a second while she waited to be able to see again. The blank eyes must be a part of Blink's mutation, she decided, making her immune to the ultra-bright flashes of light her teleportation created.

She wasn't sure when they had had the chance, but at some point Rogue had been changed out of the jeans, long-sleeved t-shirt, combat boots, and gloves that she had gone out wearing and into some kind of poorly made brown clothing, with too-long sleeves and pants that were baggy enough to hide her bare feet completely. They had also provided her with a pair of brown leather gloves, for which she was thankful for. She had no one to touch in here, but the gloves were a familiar comfort.

She glanced around the small room. It was maybe seven feet by ten feet, not including the part that was hidden by the, eh hem, _bathroom. _There wasn't much else besides what Blink had pointed out, just walls and a ceiling that was about a foot taller than her, so that she could easily reach up and touch it.

Rogue approached one of the walls, pressing her hand to it. The whole cell was made from the same exact same kind of wood, pale and fresh-looking. She pressed her finger nail against it. Yep, definitely fresh cut; it was still soft enough for her fingernail to leave a small mark.

She gently sniffed the wall.

_Pine, _psyche-Logan chided in at the familiar scent, _Wherever you are, there must be a lot of pine trees around._

Well, that was good to know, but she could still be almost anywhere in the Northern Hemisphere. Hell, she could be in Russia for all she knew. But it was a start, at least she wasn't in a desert or Antarctica or something.

She slid her hand over the rough surface slowly, wondering if it was brittle enough to break with a good kick.

_Pine's a softwood_, a random psyche offered, _not usually good for building things so much as decorating them._

She rested her hand on one of the air holes, the size of a toonie* that looked as if it had been hastily drilled only moments before she arrived. Moving her eye directly over the little circle, she clicked her tongue in disappointment.

The hole went about a foot deepbefore the far edge of the wood could be seen. Other than that, the only thing in her view was what she could only assume was the wall on the other side of a hallway, raw unpolished stone like the ceiling in the room she had been laying in only moments before. The wall was streaked with thin silvery lines lengthwise.

_Ooooo, _Amara's voice was louder than usual from the recent absorption; _You are in a lava tube! Underground! I do like magma and underground things._

_Gee, I wonder why __**Magma. **_

_You know what; I bet it has something to do with my lava mutation._

_... You're a freaking genius._

_I know, right?_

_Why does she never get sarcasm? WHY!_

Rogue frowned, shifting around to try and see as much as possible. Did being in a lava tube mean that there was a chance for, you know, _**lava**_to show up?

_No, it does not, actually. This is a very small tube, so the lava did not even flow that long. I would say it was a fast and short leak from a much larger magma chamber that filled itself in very quickly. You are in no danger of burning to death. Hurray for not burning to death!_

_Okay then, we're not going to die right away. Now we just need to figure out what part of the world has lava tubes and pine trees, and we're halfway to getting away._

_A little faith, Bobby. Knowing this much after, like what? Two minutes in captivity? That's not bad._

"Okay guys," Rogue muttered to no one in particular, "A little quiet would be nice, I need to think."

_Alright, Alright. We're shutting up now._

_But I wanted to tell her..._

_DAMN IT KITTY JUST GIVE THE GIRL SOME QUIET._

_...Fine. _

There was a single moment of utter silence in Rogue's mind. And yet she couldn't even get out a whole sigh of relief when the peace was shattered, utterly and completely.

"**Tu fils de salope, permette moi aller! C'est des conneries ! Tu ne peux le faire seulement! Je vais vous tuer Senyaka, je promets, je vais vous tuer.**"*

The voice of someone yelling French profanities echoed outside her cell, and whoever he was, he wasn't keeping his presence a secret. The psyches exploded in a furry of sound, some scolding the man on his poor etiquette and some trying to translate it to English in excitement.

"Well," she muttered as she moved over to a new air hole, trying to see what the commotion was about, "So much for some quiet."

"**Sais-tu combien de temps ta mère prend pour chier? Neuf mois!**"

Whoever that was, they had one hell of a pair of lungs on them.

Rogue walked along the wood, peering through each air hole she went by. Stone wall… Stone wall… Stone wall… ah, there we go. Creepy, half armoured man with a scarf, half dragging, half carrying a swearing man through the hall.

"**Tu es une pomme de terre avec le visage d'un cochon d'inde, et tu sens comme le bœuf et le fromage. C'est logique, parce que tu as le cerveau d'un sandwich au fromage**!"

Rogue frowned at this new string of swears. Her French wasn't very good, but she could have sworn she heard something about a cheese sandwich in there. He must have been running out.

She continued to follow the pair, air hole by air hole, trying and failing to get a good look at the one with the colourful tongue. She would catch a glimpse of brown clothing, or chin-length auburn hair, or a flailing arm, than he'd be gone, past her view.

She half ran to the next one, peering through and getting a glimpse of the almost bored way 'armour man' was carrying himself, like he'd dragged a struggling, cursing person down this hallway too many times then he cared enough to count.

She again tried to look at the person he was towing, but they were already gone from the view. She ran to the next. Was he another 'killer' that Selene needed the services of in her 'Inner Circle'? One who had denied her as well?

"**Vous avez le corps d'un chien et le QI d'une durée de cinq ans.**"

Rogue hurriedly pressed her eye to the next hole, but suddenly pulled back in slight surprise when there was nothing there, just a hole in the wall that seemed to fall short right where it should have opened up.

She started towards the next when she paused, realizing the French profanities had stopped (stopped _moving_, the words themselves were still going strong) A low scratchy voice spoke, somehow heard over the man.

"Blink, _please _get this one in there, he's starting to piss me off."

Rogue went back to the air hole that had seemed to be closed, almost jumping back again when she heard Blink's distinct chuckle directly on the other side. Oh, she must have been leaning up against the opening. Rogue hadn't even realized she'd been there.

Blink moved away from the wall, giving Rogue a clear view… of Blink's leather-clad back.

"Put him in with the Rogue?"

Rogue raised a surprised eyebrow. She was getting a cellmate. That was fast. She listened to some more of his cuss words, trying to translate what she could. She was almost positive that she heard 'magical unicorn' and 'peanut butter and jelly' in French somewhere in there. Well, he was certainly… creative.

"Apparently Selene has a sense of humour today."

Sense of… wait, what was that supposed to mean?

"Well, I'm sure the Rogue will be happy to have a re-match."

There was a dull pink glow, and Rogue quickly spun away from her peek-hole. She squeezed her eyes shut and pressed her face into the crook of her arm as the flash went off, dimly seen even though her eyes were covered. They ached with the very memory of having her eyes _open_ for the trip.

Several seconds passed, and then there was another flash. She spent _another_ couple of seconds with her face pressed into her arm, more so because she was still worried about being suddenly blinded rather than seeing the man, who by now had stopped cursing.

_Den-i-al. _Tabitha's psyche sang

Rogue tried not to growl out loud at Tabitha's voice for the sake of not looking completely insane, before she slowly pulled away her arm to look at him, squinting slightly in the poor light. She raised an eyebrow to see that he was standing in a similar way she was, with his face pressed into the crook of his arm.

He was taller than her by maybe four inches, his feet bare and his t-shirt and pants poorly made out of the same kind of cheap brown fabric as her clothing, everything too big by at least two sizes.

He had shaggy auburn hair was sticking up over the tan flesh of his arm, which had a lovely collection of slightly pinkish scar marks around his hand and forearm, burn scars.

Then the arm was pulled away, showing a familiar face with the eyes of the devil looking at her warily.

About a hundred psyches yelled out the exact same thing as loud as their 'voices' could muster, making Rogue's ears ring.

_It's him!_

Well, maybe not _every _psyche. Logan was growling in deafening volumes, not talking.

Her kidnapper, Gambit, Rogue remembered, raised his arms slightly in an almost sheepish gesture. Logan's snarling grew steadily noisier in Rogue's mind; until his psyche overpowered all the others, louder then he had been when she first absorbed him. It almost like the feral man was standing beside her.

Sudden bloodthirsty rage burst through her, the heat of the emotion spreading from behind her eyes to the rest of her body in an instant. A snarl of her own ripped from Rogue's chest.

Gambit opened his mouth as if to say something, but she didn't give him the chance to get in a single word. She took two running steps forward, pulled her fist back, than brought it back against his cheek hard, making his head snap to the side.

_He's here to mock us, _Kitty's psyche had suddenly taken the place of Logan's in volume, _He's here to laugh at us for getting into this mess._

Rogue grabbed his shoulders and pulled her knee sharply up, slamming it into his stomach. His breath came out in a loud _whoosh _as he knelled over in pain.

_He took you from your home, _Magneto's voice pushed Kitty's away, _He gave you to an insane woman to do as she pleased. _

Rogue swung her leg high, catching him on his side, sending him tumbling to the ground.

_He hurt your friends. _It felt like Sabretooth's psyche had roughly shoved past Magneto to the forefront of Rogue's mind, _Remember how he hurt them? He crashed a metal pole into their skulls; he electrocuted them and threatened to blow them up._

Rogue growled lowly, remembering the pink glow that had come off of Mercury's skin so brightly. She tackled Gambit down as he tried to get back up, straddling his waist. She held down his shoulder with one hand while gripping his neck tightly with the other.

She could kill him now, snap his neck, end his life. Who knew what other awful things he could have done in the past? The people he could have hurt besides her.

She _should _kill him now. End so much pain.

_Do it now, _Sabretooth thought-hissed, _Just twist his neck._

She almost did.

She had angled her hands just right, was just about to wring his neck like a chicken, when for just a moment they made eye contact, and she saw an emotion there.

He had realized what she was doing, realized she was about to kill him. And he was actually _afraid_. Afraid of _her, _like so many others were. But, unlike the others, he had a good, personal reason to fear her. She was about to intentionally _kill him _and…

Oh God.

She was about to kill someone. A _human being._

She jumped away from him as if she had been burned, holding her hands in front of her in shock as she walked backwards until her back hit a wall. He hadn't even _tried _to stop her, and she was going to murder him anyways. That wasn't her, that wasn't what Rogue did. Rogue was the _calm _one, the one the team counted on to keep her cool when everything was going out of control. To think things all the way through. Impulsive moves were Nori's job.

Except she wasn't the calm one. The damn rush, the _thrill. _Every single time she felt it, even slightly, it made her do irrational, dangerous, violent things. Things that Marie D'Ancanto didn't do. Things that some of the voices in her head might have done if they had bodies of their own.

She grabbed her temples, silently praying that it wasn't happening. The Professor, right before he died, had told her that it was important for her to learn to control the psyches before learning to control her skin. Because with each absorption, the voices grew louder, stronger. Maybe even strong enough to influence her actions. Or maybe even strong enough to take over completely.

And then The Professor died, and the psychic sessions that had been helping her sedate her psyches had abruptly ended. And the voices got louder and louder and louder…

This couldn't be the turning point, not now. She didn't need this while she was being held captive.

She looked up at Gambit, where he was still on the floor, albeit sitting up by now. For just an instant she met his gaze, noted somewhere unimportant in the back of her mind that she hadn't been hallucinating thanks to mystery drugs in a dart, that he really did have the eyes of the devil. But somehow, despite the sinister colouring, she had always imagined the devil's eyes more… menacing… plotting… evil… something, _anything _other than cautious yet relieved.

His eyes dropped down, like he was embarrassed. By his eyes? Her teacher, Mr. Wagner, often hid his blue fur and elf ears and fangs and such behind an image inducer to avoid being persecuted by the public; Gambit probably wasn't much different, but with those strange dark sunglasses.

Except Gambit wasn't an aspiring priest. Gambit was someone working for a mad-woman.

"What are you doing here?" Rogue said in a voice she meant to be hard, though it came out as more of a pained whisper.

Gambit _smirked_, and for a moment Rogue actually wondered if it was too late to go over there and break his neck.

Yes, she decided, it was.

**Because an anonymous reviewer brought it to my attention that Gambit can charge wood, let's just assume he can't because otherwise that would ruin my whole plot. His powers specifically can't charge anything organic and wood seems pretty organic to me, especially if it's still mostly alive.**

***Canadian 2$ coin. Google it. Don't know how big the largest American coin is, so just bear with me on my crazy Canadian issues. **

*** Remy's French cussing: 'You son of a b****, let me go! This is bull****. You can't do this! I'll kill you Senyaka, I promise, I'll kill you.'… 'How long does it take you mother to take a s***? Nine months!'…'You're a potato with the face of a guinea pig, and you smell like beef and cheese. Which makes sense, because you have the brain of a cheese sandwich.'… 'You havethe body of a dog and the IQ of a five year old.'**

**Remy's French cussing translated by ME! French isn't exactly my best subject, so apologies for any outrageous mistakes that might come up, as my French teacher has already told me that I am absolutely hopeless (okay, he didn't say that, but he **_**implied **_**it).**

**And to anyone who cares: Peanut butter and jelly = le beurred'arachide et confiture Magical unicorn= licornemagique**

**Amara is an expert on lava tubes and such because it makes sense with her mutation and all. Magma, lava tube...? You get the idea.**

**Review, because my friend Bob the Imaginary Pony will love you if you do (this is a good thing)**

**Flames are for making s'mors and banana boats while camping, not reviews.**


	6. Cellmate

**I don't own the X-Men movies, shows, comic, basic plots, and/or characters. Those belong to marvel… for now. **

**Milestone: over fifty reviews! Thank you Rogueslove22 for review number 50 as well as every other person who has reviewed. If it wasn't for you guys I would have given up years ago (and therefore before I even began). Keep reviewing to keep me going strong!**

**I've had this chapter done for days, but I wanted to get it out **_**today **_**because…**

**IT'S MY BIRTHDAY! Ya, koodos to me for publishing a chapter on my birthday (does happy dance). Also for having my birthday on 'hangover day'. Of course I was born the day **_**after **_**St. Patrick's Day *grumbles***

**Big thanks to everyone who responded to my Beta reader request, especially QueensGambit, Heaven's Archer, and Cheshire XIII for all Beta-ing it! And also aiRo25, even though you were too busy for me, for responding at all. You guys are awesome! **

**Please note that I thought of the plot for this story, **_**then**_** went on wikipedia to find the characters that would fit into different parts. I tweaked as much as I was willing to the plot in order to change the characters as little as possible, but if I get something wrong just assume it's because it's important to the plot or in my naive-wikipediaing ways I missed a detail. Sorry, I don't care how much of a fan you are of certain characters; I'm not changing the plot for a lone complainer. Seriously, I don't think there's going to be any OCs in this story at all, just really screwed up characters (Layla Miller fans run and hide, because I'm not sure the two have ****anything in common but their name)**

**I'm not a professional anything (unless shelving girl at the public library counts) so if I get information wrong about science or mediation or thievery or the use of guns or how to make a pie or something, please don't kill and/or maul me. That would suck. A lot.**

_**Psyche speech.**_

**ENJOY!**

Rogue shivered violently, wrapping the wispy sheet around her shoulders tighter around her and pressed closer to the wall. Apparently the 'prisoner uniform' wasn't just too big and scratchy; it was also a pathetic excuse for a pair of pyjamas.

She had fallen asleep easily enough before, but she had a sneaking suspicion that Gambit had had a hand in that. of these days, she would beat how he made her talk so much out of him, but that day wasn't today… or tonight or… well she actually had no idea what time it was, but she didn't feel up to killing him at the moment. She'd wait for a moment when she wasn't in a freezing cold cell. Preferably a moment where there was indoor heating. Yes, that would be nice.

For a moment her thoughts drifted dreamily to images of hot chocolate and cotton pyjamas and heavy, warm blankets, but the fantasy was brutally murdered as another wave of cold hit her, sending violent shivers up her spine. God, she hated cold things.

Gambit was lying down on the other side of the box, his back facing her like a conveniently placed object for her to glare at as sleep continued to evade her. The bitter cold of the cell didn't seem to bother him, even though his head was tucked into his bare arms. Repeat, **bare arms.**How did he do it? The cell felt like it was made to be a freezer, and he still appeared to be snoozing comfortably. Perfectly warm.

Jerk.

Rogue reckoned it had something to do with his mutation. Actually, she didn't really know what his mutation was. Something to do with explosions and pink light, maybe added reflexes and some kind of screwed up hypnosis as secondary mutations, but explosions seemed to be the main thing. And by a general census offered by voices in her head, explosions often involved heat.

In the multiple personality museum also known as Rogue's head, Hank McCoy (a.k.a. 'Beast' or 'Quite possibly the smartest man alive') was going on and on about how his powers might work, talking about living and dead cells and the difference and how Gambit's powers differed from Tabitha's because he needed something to create an explosion _with, _suggesting that he takes explosive potential _already_ in an object and exploits it. It would be much more difficult to do this with an organic object consisting of cells, as this would need a significantly higher amount of concentrated energy to give explosive results, though it should be much easier for him if the cells are dead. Blahblahblah-blah-blah.

Rogue sort of tuned Hank out after a while. When he, or rather _she,_ encountered something particularly interesting, he tended to get pretty excited with his hypothesises and such. He was like that as an actual person, too, and was even keeping his babbling to Storm and several other psyches he knew when he was a person. He wasn't even talking to _her. _He was just really, really, really, really loud.

It had been Rogue's observation, mostly at night when she could do little to distract herself from the voices, that her psyches divided themselves into the groups they'd been comfortable in as actual people; X-men psyches talked with X-Men psyches, Brotherhood psyches talked with Brotherhood psyches, humans psyches talked with human psyches, even random strangers that she accidentally brushed up against seemed to be keeping to themselves in a close-knit conversation group.

It helped tune everything out into a wordless buzz, like standing in a hall full of people all talking at once. Meaningless babble until she actually tried to listen to specific words said. Every now and then a single voice would rise over the others, and at that moment Hank's was holding strong.

On the other side of the cell, Gambit sighed, rolling off of his side and onto his back. Rogue stiffened at the sudden movement, staying perfectly still as she watched his eyes open to stare at the ceiling in thought. Well, at least she wasn't the only one having trouble sleeping. It didn't matter that he had done a few noble things in his lifetime; he still deserved to suffer with her, if nothing else.

He tenderly touched his cheek, a small smirk spreading over his lips as he prodded the tender bruise. Was he a masochist or something?

He certainly hadn't shown any fear of being beaten the crap out of (_again_) earlier that day. And it's not like he even _tried _to defend himself. Was that him trying to be 'noble' or something? Letting her get in a few hits to make him feel like he'd paid for kidnapping her or something?

All things considered, he hadn't really revealed much about himself in their few hours locked in a small wooden room… though she might to be onto something with that masochism thing...

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"What are you doing here?" Rogue said in a voice she'd meant to be hard, though it came out as more of a pained whisper.

Gambit _smirked_, and for a moment Rogue actually wondered if it was too late to go over there and break his neck.

Yes, she decided, it was.

He ran a hand through his hair, grease monkey style, and his smirk widened as he looked over at her. His eyes were shining brightly, like they made their own light in the dim room.

"What does it look like I'm doing here?" he said casually, "I'm a prisoner too, and I'm _here, _in dis _room, _'cause Selene t'inks she's bein' funny," He cast Rogue a sideways glance, the corner of his smirk tugging higher, "Mais, if bein' locked in a room wit' un belle femme is mon punishment, Gambit will gladly take it."

Rogue wrinkled her nose in distaste at his flattery, even as his rich Cajun accent made her toes unconsciously curl in pleasure. Her _own_ memories about her home down south eased the pain from the psyches. There weren't any southern voices in her head but her own; thoughts of the south didn't start up a tyrant of screams about reminiscences that she shouldn't have.

She took a deep breath, her eyes dropping to her hands as she braced herself against the wall for support. But the voices were still _so loud. _Their voices have never hurt her this much in the past. What was wrong with her?

"So what are you in for? Did you break the 'must wear lingerie at all times dress code' or something?" Her voice cracked halfway through her weak joke. If Gambit noticed, he didn't show it.

"No," he said a little dryly, though his voice was completely serious, "Dat's only a dress code for de femmes. And de dress code is 'all female members of de Inner Circle must wear somet'ing smutty', not lingerie specifically, extremely tight cloths work too."

Rogue raised her brows in surprise as a small smile broke her grimace.

"You're kidding."

Gambit let out what she was pretty sure was meant to be a bark of laughter, but instead came out more like a cough.

"Oui, she's real strict 'bout it. I'm startin' t' t'ink dat _**Selene**_plays fo' de ot'er team. Well, maybe 'alfway on de ot'er team."

She'd have to be a fool to miss the disgusted way he said Selene's name, like he wished he had some soap to wash the word off his tongue with. Nor did she have to be a genius to recognize that he was still serious about thinking that Selene was… well, you know.

_Damn, that guy really hates working for Mrs. Crazy._

_Then why is he even working for her in the first place?_

_I don't know, no one likes Julian and we work with him._

_Hey!_

_But there's a difference between working __**with **__and working __**for**__. If Julian was the principle of the Institute, then everyone would be gone within the week._

_I'm right here, you know._

_M__aybe it's like working for Magneto, you hate the person but you believe in his message._

_So what's Selene's message? 'Let's become Gods!'?_

_Uh… maybe she's all for mutant supremacy or something._

_Or maybe she's not totally there._

_*Gasp* OMG Rogue, maybe this Gambit guy is crazy too, and that's why he's working for her! He'll, like, murder you in your sleep!_

_AHHHH! EVERYONE FREAK OUT!_

Teenage female screams ensued. Rogue flinched at the sudden high keening sound.

Shut. Up. Rogue growled within, her brow crinkling in concentration as she tried to strengthen her mental walls. Damn it, damn it, damn it. Why did she have to absorb so many teenage girls? She could hardly deal with them when they _weren't_ commenting on her every move through life. They were so… sickeningly naive.

She could practically feel the strange look Gambit was giving her. She didn't dare look away from her hands.

"So," she said shakily as she struggled to keep a grimace from her lips. No need for him to think there was something mentally wrong with her… more then he already thought, "If you're not in 'cause of dress code, then what _did _ya do?"

There was a pause, the silence saying more clearly that he could tell something was wrong with her then any words could have.

"Disobeyed direct orders?" He said it like a question; though it hadn't been the question he'd _wanted_ to ask, "She don' like dat too much, apparently."

_Uh, please, _Nori's psyche broke through her mental wall effortlessly,_ I bet he worships the ground she walks on like the others. Did you see the way those people __**respected **__her? Bowing their heads when she came near and hanging onto her every word like it'll bring them salvation or something._

_I do no__t know. He does seem to dislike this Selene greatly._

_So? He's a good actor. He's probably here to gain your pity and try and prompt you to join their 'Inner Circle'. Don't believe a word he says, Rogue. In fact, call him out on his bluff._

Suddenly listening to Nori's advice seemed like a fantastic idea. She _was _a team leader back at the institute, after all. She _must _know what she was saying.

Rogue scoffed rudely in the back of her throat, her face settling into a sneer as she looked up at his face.

_Show no weakness, _a voice whispered in her ear.

"Why would _you_ disobey your 'goddess'," Rogue growled, looking up to glare at him as she spat out 'goddess'. Gambit raised one of his eyebrows, a frown tugging down at the corners of his lips.

"Because, what dat woman does is evil, an' I've got morals." He said simply, his head cocking to the side as he folded his legs under him in a more comfortable-looking position.

Rogue let out an angry snort of laughter.

"Sure fooled me." She muttered dangerously. His eyes narrowed and his lips puckered in anger.

"I don't need you to believe it," he said darkly, "_I _know I have them."

"Oh, ya? Then tell me, why are you working for someone who is so obviously against these so-called 'morals'."

Gambit's anger snapped away like an elastic band, replace with a taken aback expression.

"I…She…she paid me."

Rogue raised an eyebrow. He wasn't a very good liar, now was he?

"Paid you, huh?" she said sarcastically, "how much, then?"

Gambit raised his own eyebrow, mirroring her face and not missing the challenge in her voice.

"A lot."

Rogue rolled her eyes.

"That's not an answer, boy. How. Much?"

Gambit pursed his lips slightly as he studied her face. His lips curled into a defiant smile.

"Jus' forget it." he said calmly, "She's jus' real good at bargainin', despite de crappy job she did today fo' y'. She 'as somet'ing I need."

"But, _I_ need to know what...

"**Non**, y' don'" Gambit snapped, "Never mind 'bout it, okay? It doesn't affect y' in de slightest."

She growled very un-Rogue like, but she didn't care. Did he really think that it was something she could just not think about?

"Fine then, but if my _freedom _is worth so little to you that you won't even tell me what its worth was in your eyes," Rogue hissed dangerously, her lip pulling back to expose her teeth, "Then know that your _life _is worth _nothing _to me."

Gambit's gaze intensified some how. His eyes felt like they bore a hole in her face, his glare felt like it would catch her very self on fire. But she still held it as long as she could.

Which, incidentally, wasn't very long. She was the one to look away first, despite the fact that she stood over him.

"I expect nothing less." He seethed quietly

She could still feel his gaze on the side of her face, so she let a curtain of hair fall from behind her ear, giving her a small veil from his suddenly prying eyes. It did nothing to suppress the burn of his stare.

"Selene didn't do a bad job at bargaining yesterday, you know." She muttered under her breath when the silence had been over them long enough, "Touch... it's something I've wanted ever since my powers manifested."

The feeling of his burning gaze suddenly disappeared.

"So why didn' y' take what she offered?" Gambit asked quietly after a moment passed, "Why didn' y' let 'er give you de power o' touch? It worked well enough for Kevin."

She felt her psyches hiss at Kevin's name, pressing a little harder against Rogue's defences in confusion and anger at his betrayal. He had been many of their friends, they had trusted and cared for him like a brother, and here he was working for someone who meant them harm. Why would he hurt them like this?

The psyches didn't get as close as they had been before, per say, but they were closer then Rogue would have liked. She felt a small spike of Sabretooth's rage, and for just an instant she truly believed that Gambit needed to die.

Painfully. With as much blood involved as possible.

But luckily the moment passed. The anger didn't.

"Kevin," Rogue growled loudly as she straightened up, deciding that downsizing Wither was the safest vent for her rage,"is weak. All it took for him to turn on all of his friends was a slut wearing next to nothing and promising phoney _Godhood_." She clenched her fists hard. "If that's all our trust was worth to him, then _Kevin_ is **dead** to me."

She turned her head so that she could look back at Gambit, watching as his eyes widened in alarm. He cleared his throat apprehensively.

"I-is dat why you won't accept 'er offer? Your friend's trust?"

Rogue looked away from him and instead glared at a wall.

"No, you idiot. Not accepting her offer was a matter of _morals_. Remember? Those things you claim to have?_ Ah _don't need to sign a deal with the devil to get the ability to touch. Ah'll be able to do that on my own… Ah'll get control eventually..."

"But weren't y' even a little tempted?" his voice was smaller now; like he was worried the smallest pressure would make her snap suddenly.

He was right.

Rogue snarled wildly, turned to look down at him with a look that would make a brave man tremble. Gambit sat still and took it, eyes never looking away from hers.

"Of _course _Ah was tempted, you idiot. Don't you think Ah want to be able to touch someone without almost _killing_ them? But Ah didn't accept Selene's offer for the same reason Ah didn't take the Cure. And let me tell you, Ah was _this close _to taking that Cure," she held her index finger and thumb a centimetre apart, "But Ah didn't, because Ah didn't want to hide from _what_ Ah was. Because Ah _know _what Ah am, and Ah'm neither a human **nor** a killer. Ah thought Ah wouldn't have to be afraid of my powers ever again with just a little more work, that the fact that my foster family disowned me because of them wouldn't matter, that my freaking _boyfriend _would still be able to stay with me without cringing every time I come near or cheating on me with every _freaking _girl that comes his way. But you know what? Those things still hurt like a mother fucker. And yet, if the Cure suddenly came back on the market, I _still _wouldn't take it. And you know wh-" Her mouth froze, her eyes narrowing suspiciously as she trailed off from her rant, "-y?"

She didn't... Oh, God, she did. She'd just told him _everything._ Things that she didn't even tell her best friends.

That isn't something the Rogue does. It's not something any of the voices in her head could even dream to make her do. It was the one thing that they'd _never _been able to influence, her ability to keep herself a secret from the outside world.

It suddenly occurred to her that she didn't know very much about his powers; other then he could blow stuff up. "Why am Ah telling _you _all of this?"

Throughout all of this, Gambit had looked a little taken aback, holding his hands out in front of him like he was trying to calm her down and yet in defeat like he knew _that _battle was already lost.

He stared at Rogue for a moment, dumbfounded, then cursed under his breath, looking away from her quickly.

Rogue felt as if a small weight had been lifted from her, the sights and sounds around her sharpening, like she'd been half blind and didn't notice until a screen over her eyes was pulled away. Like she'd been half-deaf and didn't realize it until cotton in her ears was removed.

Gambit was now back to staring at the wall intently. The moment his eyes had left her, thinking became that much easier.

"Je suis très désole," he muttered, "Je ne peux pas arrêter."

"What. Was. That?" Rogue asked slowly as she held the side of her head in confusion, in anger. It was almost like… there had been a slight buzzing noise underlying all the noise her psyches made that she hadn't even noticed until it had abruptly cut off. Like he'd had a subtle influence on her.

Bastard.

Gambit cleared his throat awkwardly.

"C'est… it is jus' somet'ing dat 'appens sometimes when I look someone in de eye," He said quietly, "D'accord?"

Rogue glared over at him, at his staring at the wall as if it was the only thing keeping him from hell. Maybe it was, considering what kind of crap could be waiting on the other side. Or maybe it wasn't, considering she was on the same side as him.

_Rogue's asking the right questions. What __**was**__ that?_

_Oh, cool. He has like a hypnotism power. __**I **__want a hypnotism power. How much fun would that be? I could make people eat dog food!_

_Actually, Tabitha, this power seems unintentional, and hypnotism requires a concentrated focus on one objective. I'd say that it is highly unlikely that he used any kind of influential power deliberately, judging by his current facade. He is clearly remorseful. I'd say it is more of an unconscious 'charm' effect._

_... Uh, ya... BUT HE MADE YOU TALK, AND TELL HIM ALL OF YOUR __**SECRETS**__! HE MUST PAY!_

_Julian, not helping right now._

_What? That guy probably gave my body a concussion with that metal pole; I reserve the right to ruse a violent reaction out of Rogue._

"No," The suddenly _very _ticked of Rogue growled, "It's not _okay. _You got some kind of Hypnosis in those eyes?"

Gambit continued to stare at his wall. He cringed slightly as if her anger physically hurt him.

"I-Non, non I don'."

She smelled a liar. She didn't like liars.

_Maybe you could beat the truth out of him. _Sabretooth's psyche suggested with glee.

For the first time in her life, Rogue listened to Sabretooth's voice.

She grabbed Gambit's shirt collar, lifting him up with strength that surprised even her as she slammed him up against the wall with more force then necessary.

"Don't _lie_ to me, boy, or I'll gouge those eyes out of your pretty little face. Now what. The. **Fuck**_. _Was. That?" She said the last sentence slowly, as if he would be unable to understand her otherwise.

Gambit suddenly looked angry; no furious. There was no way in _hell _his glare _couldn't_ be intimidating, with those really... really... really nice eyes... Like really pretty sparkly rubies imbedded in onyx…

Rogue tore her gaze away from them and forced herself to glare at his mouth instead. The urge to look into his eyes remained.

"Just leave it de fuck alone." He growled, leaning his face towards her slightly.

"No! If you're messing with my head, I need to know about it _now._"

"It's mon business! You 'ave no right t' demand answers!"

"Why not? You got to find out everything from me _by doing something to me! _Tell me what that was, or I'll kill you now."

Gambit scoffed.

"Y' can't kill me. De X-Men never kill."

Rogue's anger spiked wildly. She grabbed his face with one hand and forced him to look her in the eye, after forcing _herself_ to look him in the eye. Sabretooth was at the forefront of her mind, and she knew that her expression would be wild and animalistic, as his always was (minus the fangs and extra hair).

"I'm not _just_ an X-Man," She snarled, "I am one hundred and one different people, all wrapped into one convenient little package. And let me assure you, not everyone is so against _killing._" She bared her teeth at him as if she was going to rip his throat out.

He seemed undaunted. What the hell was wrong with this man? How could he _not _find the prospect of an insane girl ripping his throat out with her teeth scary?

He leaned a little closer to her, making her automatically move her head back to avoid skin-to-skin contact. He smiled at the knee-jerk reaction.

"Go ahead then." He whispered, "Kill me. Like I said. I. Don't. Care. It'll just prove what Selene already believes."

He moved his hand even so slightly, making her eyes automatically snap down to the movement. His pinkie pressed to the wall, and Rogue was instantly reminded of Gambit charging up Cessily. All it took was a little twitch of a finger.

It reminded her even more so of it when the wall began to glow a blinding red. She gasped and quickly let go of him, jumping back as far from the wall as the cell would let her. If it was going to blow, she didn't want to be anywhere near it.

As soon as she let go of Gambit's collar, Sabretooth's psyche started going crazy, snarling and fighting to make her go over there and attack him. He had been starved of violence for too long, he screamed, thanks to her do-good X-men ways. He wanted _blood. _The psyche pushed on her final mental defences, hard. Rogue, in her anger, had let him through too far without challenging him, he wanted control now.

She slammed her strongest mental barrier against him, satisfied by the infuriated growl he let out as he was pushed back. Satisfaction was cut short by the sudden pounding headache that shot through her with a vengeance, bringing her to her knees as she suppressed a scream of pain.

"Wanda?" Gambit's confused voice sounded far away, quiet beneath her pounding ears.

Rogue managed to look up at the figure that was now standing in the cell. The red glow that had been coming off the wall so brightly was already gone, little sparks of it lingering around her hands. Not Gambit, who was still leaning up against the wall with a sheepish look on his face, it was _her _that caused the glow. And whatever it was, it had allowed her to enter the cell without leaving any apparent marks on the wall.

First thing noticed: the woman, no, the _girl,_ wore red. Bright red jeans, a matching red tank top, maroon boots. A scarf belt the colour of dried blood. Full, pouty lips painted a dark, _dark _red. Red eye shadow over the inch of black eyeliner that surrounded her dark brown eyes. Red bangles on her wrists. Red rings on her fingers. The only other colours on her were the brunette of her hair curling around her rounded chin, the light tan of her skin, the black of her ankh earrings, and the silver of her pentacle chocker. She couldn't have been more then seventeen, even younger then Rogue.

Rogue blinked in recognition, or rather John's recognition. She… she was the girl that John had been kissing last night (earlier today?). But, what was she doing _there_? She obviously wasn't a prisoner, but she didn't look like a member of the Inner Circle either. Not enough tight black clothing.

And whoever she really was, she obviously knew Gambit. And that didn't exactly put her in Rogue's good books…

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Remy stared at his ally, his _friend _for the last seven months as she stood in his cell, her powers ready for immediate use as they sparked around her fingers. Wanda Maximoff, the Scarlet Witch. Her ability to warp reality by 'hexing' it with the red light that comes from her hands was a power so poorly tuned, yet already so powerful.

She was glaring at him at the moment, waves of disbelief and rage rolling off of her like angry waves. Which generally was not a good thing considering said powerful power.

"Tell me you didn't," she growled. He tried to smile at her, but it faltered when it made her anger spike dangerously.

"Well," he said slowly, weighing each word carefully on his tongue. Don't set her off, he told himself, for God's sake don't set her off, "I'm 'ere. So I guess I did."

She made her 'cow giving birth' sound in the back of her throat as she face-palmed. Something that was almost akin to amusement joined her emotions, but it didn't last very long.

"Every time, Gambit." She groaned into her hand, "Every _fucking _time you have to do something stupid and screw it up. Is there something genuinely _wrong _with you?"

"Course not, petite…" he said as he slowly tried to push less violent feelings towards her.

"Well then tell me," Wanda growled, jerking her face out of her hand to glare at him with renewed hate. Damn it. Why must his empathic effect only be a suggestion and not forced? It would make life so much easier, "Why you always seem to find it so difficult to follow the rules? Why the hell do you always have to play the hero?"

Remy frowned at her for a moment.

It was funny, word usually didn't spread around Selene's little cult too quickly. The higher-up members were always the first to hear any gossip, and generally it just went down the latter from there. And considering he and Wanda were barely considered above the rank of prisoners (and below them in some cases *cough* Rogue *cough*), they were usually the last to find out stuff like, say, an idiot not turning in some kids and getting locked in a cell with a person he had kidnapped a few hours earlier.

Had she got promoted while he was gone or something?

"She don' own me, an' it's time she realized it." He simply stated.

Wanda's anger was suddenly overwhelming.

Her hand shot out, slapping him hard across the face and making his head snap to the side on impact.

"Like hell she doesn't!" Wanda screamed, "She owns us _both, _Gambit. Why can't you get it through your thick skull that _she owns our souls_, and we didn't even sell them to her. This is _her _game, _she_ makes the rules. Those students would have been found anyways. Why couldn't you just tell her about them? _You_ wouldn't have their blood on your hands. I mean, come on. _You_ single-handedly beat all of them with a fucking metal pole, and you still managed to get the girl unharmed. You're not even the best Selene has at her disposal."

Remy stared at her for a long time, his brow suddenly furrowing in confusion. He hadn't told anyone about his preferred weapon, not even her. Element of surprise encase things got messy. He didn't think _anyone_ knew that he could even hold a bo staff, except for the Xavier kids themselves and now…

"The one she sent to follow me… it was you, wasn't it? You're the one who turned me in." the shame he felt her feel was enough of an answer, "Why?"

"The task was simple." She spoke in a hard voice, doing well to keep her shame and guilt out of it, "Get the girl, bring her back, and you're a free man. You could just take what you're here for and go. But you had to make things complicated." Her face distorted in misery, "Why must you always make things complicated?"

"Wanda…" He took a step towards her. Bad idea.

Wanda flicked her wrist, the red sparks jumping off her hand. They latched onto his shirt and hair, crackling like New Year sparklers. A blink and he was covered in the sparkling red light. She made a slight pushing motion and he flew back until his back hit the wall furthest from her with a loud thump. Rogue was still crumpled on the floor, almost at his feet, watching them with glazed bright green eyes.

"Just because you're willing to trade their freedom for your own," Wanda growled, her anger sizzling down to despair as her head bowed further, "doesn't mean I am. I'd like to think of you as a friend. But when you're endangering everything I hold dear, you give me no choice but to hate you."

"You know what she's having us do isn't right."

Wanda's head lifted, her eyes emotionless, even though her emotions were pouring from her in heady mixtures of anger, self-hate, and misery.

"It doesn't matter anymore. We don't get the luxury of that choice. We do as we're told, because that's what pawns do."

"We don't have to…"

"You know something?" Wanda cut him off, "Now that she knows she can't be sure of your loyalty, you become a liability. And do you remember what she does to liabilities?"

Remy visibly paled in the dim light. Her mouth twisted into an agonized grimace.

"That's right. You'd better hope the Rogue here kills you, because if _she_ doesn't, then you're screwed."

Gambit opened his mouth as if to say something, then closed it again with a heavy swallow. Wanda nodded sadly and shot a bored glance down at Rogue.

"She wanted me to tell you that you have a month," her eyes turned back to Gambit, "both of you."

She waved her hand, more red sparks trailing to the wall and making it glow the same blinding red that was still holding Remy to the wall. They formed a perfect arch on the pine wood, spread out in a dim pink at first but multiplying and darkening until it appeared to be a static-filled TV screen… a blood red static-filled TV screen. Wanda offered Remy one last pitying glance before turning her back to them and stepping through her doorway.

A moment later the red flickered out, both from Remy's limbs and the wall, leaving the room just as dark and plain as before. Except perhaps the person who was still on the ground. She was strange.

Remy frowned at Rogue as she stared up at him with painful tear-glossed eyes. Anguish and fear, those were her two most prominent emotions. But bellow that was a complex jumble of every emotion imaginable, from happiness to bloodlust to relief to distrust to sadness so intense she should have been in tears to jealously.

There was something about her. Remy assumed it had to do with her powers. Even when he had been tailing her and her group earlier that morning, she had been radiating the strangest combination of feelings, like there was more then one person trapped in one body. And when they had fought, her eyes had changed from her own (he assumed) vivid green to a brilliant blue when she made the flame appear, then immediately a brown when she threw it. Then they'd been dark brown, green again, grey-blue, light blue, green yet again.

What had she said earlier? 'I am one hundred and one different people'?

And she _continued_ to have changing eyes, he noted as they changed to an almost black brown and concern and comfort were suddenly her primary emotions above the swirling combination of them. Did she have some kind of split personality?

"Ah don't understand," she whispered as her eyes flickered back to green and her emotions went back to anguish and fear, though slightly toned down, "'turn in the students'? Did she mean m-my friends?"

She looked like she hardly had enough energy to make words come out of her mouth. She was experiencing some kind of intense exhaustion. She'd done too much in twenty-four hours.

"Oui." Remy said gently as he knelled beside her, ignoring the way she flinched at his nearness, "Selene's makin' a collection. Wanted me t' report any mutants I came by. Guess what I didn' do."

Rogue swallowed heavily. Confusion layered heavily over her eyes.

"Now why'd ya do a thang lauke that?" she murmured, her accent thickening as her eyelids blinked slowly. Remy could feel her exhaustion starting to drown out everything else.

"Remember dose t'ings we talked 'bout. Y' know, morals?"

"But why…" her sentence was interrupted by a giant yawn. He chuckled as she tried, and failed, to sit up.

"Y' look tired, chère. Peut-être y' should get some sleep."

"No," she whispered, her eyes already closing, "Ah can't fall asleep. Ah have to…" yawn "keep myself safe."

He rested a hand on her fore-head, pushing calmness towards her mind. She wouldn't need much encouragement.

"Sleep, chère. Y' be alright." He smiled a little, "Jus' don' try t' kill me when y' wake up."

"O-okay." She muttered in groggy agreement as her eyelids fluttered shut. There was a large lapse of calm poured over the other emotions, and Remy sighed, leaning back against the wall and watching her doubtfully.

He needed to get out of this mess somehow. Being a liability in Selene's eyes wasn't a good thing, and if what Wanda had said was accurate, he had about a month. He was no longer needed, and she had an always had a special way for getting rid of people like him. Hell, the only reason he wasn't already dead was because Rogue had been clinging to him like he was her salvation earlier. If the girl ever _did _join the Inner Circle, he'd become her pet, her plaything.

He shuddered at the thought, shifting a little farther away from her sleeping form.

**(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())**

A part of Nori's mind knew that the weight of sleep felt wrong, unnatural. In the past, whenever she was just about to awake she'd always felt like there was a heavy blanket over her mind, warm and comforting, then cool and refreshing as it was peeled away and she would awake.

But now she felt like her mind was covered in something prickly and uncomfortable, like that blanket was made of needles and pins, jabbing her sharply even as she lay still.

She groaned loudly she felt herself pull through the sharpness into consciousness. Everything was wrong, she could feel it. Something bad had happened. She needed to be awake, needed to be aware.

Her eyelids fluttered open, then immediately squeezed shut as they were instantly berated with blinding white light.

Where was she? She could remember going out with her friends… some drinking… a blank spot in her memory… then suddenly being harshly sober… a fight with some guy with a staff… a knee to the forehead.

Her eyes flew open as she sat up suddenly, blinking hard as her head spun with the sudden movement. Where was she? It looked like a hospital room of some sort, with crisp white sheets and white tiles on the walls and floor and… white, white, white.

Her thoughts automatically turned to mutant experimentation. How many of her friends and classmates been victims of the curiosity of insane scientists who wanted to learn more of their mutant 'conditions'.

Throwing back the covers, Nori placed her bare feet onto the cold ground, shivering as she forced herself to stand and take two steps. Whatever they couldn't have been expecting her to wake up any time soon, because she was still in her normal clothing and didn't have anything attached to her. Her metal arm gauntlets were even still in place, so whoever they were, they must have known what they were doing. Didn't they do that? Connect you to an IV that dripped some kind of knockout drug into your blood or something?

And apparently whoever had her in this… room didn't think of her as much of a threat. They would have tied her down otherwise. Nori was pretty sure that Laura had accidentally said something about that once. People tying her down when they weren't torturing and/or experimenting on her so that she couldn't kill all of them in rage.

Nori had hardly taken her third step when a head rush hit her hard. Her vision clouded with black spots as she stumbled, falling onto the hard floor with a loud 'thump'. She groaned and pushed herself onto all fours.

She had to get up, she had to keep going.

"Miss Ashida." A deep male voice said from the doorway, "I would not recommend trying to stand so soon. The injury you sustained to your cranium was not as severe as it could have been, but it would do you good to rest while your body recuperates."

Nori looked up from her place on the floor to see a heavily muscled man in a long white coat standing over her. A heavily muscled man wearing a long white lab coat and covered from head to toe in _blue fur _along with a lovely set of canine teeth and claw-like nails_._

And this sight was possibly the most comforting she could have seen in her situation. Just goes to show how messed up life is when you're a Xavier student. But at least seeing her teacher/doctor meant she was home, back at the mansion branch in New Orleans and surrounded by those she trusted. The MedBay, she was in the MedBay. Well, that explained why she didn't recognize where she was. She'd never been in any of the rooms where residents of the Institute would stay if they had to stay at the MedBay overnight.

"Mr. McCoy." She sighed in relief, slowly getting to her feet again. She raised a hand to her forehead as another wave of vertigo hit her, "What happened?"

"I was actually rather hoping that you could tell me, my dear," Mr. McCoy said calmly as he adjusted the glasses resting on his nose, "Those who joined you on your little… 'excursion' last night whom have already awoken do not recall how this happened."

Nori bit her lip, now fully aware of the dull throbbing at the front of her skull. Ow. How did that..? Oh ya, kneed in the forehead.

Riiiiiight.

"We were… walking home," She said slowly, her brow furrowing as she tried to remember the details "Tabitha, John, and Amara were already unconscious because they'd, uh, had a little too much fun. And some guy attacked us. He took out Josh and Betsy and… Julian I think, before we even realized what was happening." Her brow furrowed. That's where things started to get fuzzy. She'd tried to attack him, she was sure of that… and then he'd… done something before taking her out. Something that made her stop in surprise. Gah, come on, this was important…

Her head suddenly snapped up as she remembered.

"Oh God, is Sam okay?"

Mr. McCoy's eyebrow rose dubiously, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"Mr. Guthrie will be fine. Both him and Miss Kincaid are recovering from a severe electrical shock," he glanced down at her heavy arm gauntlets, the ones that he himself had designed, that currently had little strings of voltage hovering around the fingers in her stress, "You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?"

Nori frowned a little deeper.

"Cessily got electrocuted? But I didn't…" she massaged her temple a little harder "Did I?"

"Are you saying that you _did _electrocute Mr. Guthrie?"

"It was an accident. Is everyone else okay?"

"Most of them are fine. Miss Aquilla, Mr Allerdyce, and Miss Smith are no worse then hung-over, Mr. Foley and Heller are both fine with minor concussions. The head injury Miss Braddock received seems to be giving her unsavoury side effects with her mutation. But everyone should make a full recovery."

Nori stared at him for a moment, waiting for him to continue. He didn't.

"And Rogue?"

Mr. McCoy frowned at her.

"What about her?"

"How is she? She was there too, and she was still fine after I got kneed in the forehead."

Mr. McCoy's eyes widened in alarm.

"Rogue was with you?"

Nori looked at him in confusion, her head throbbing more and more painfully. She wanted to lie down again… and an icepack… and chocolate. Chocolate always made her feel better.

"Yes… Why wouldn't you know..?" her eyes suddenly widened in realization that pushed chocolate from her mind, "Oh my God, he took her. That guy took her." She covered her mouth with her hand, "He must have been watching us for _ages. _He knew that Julian, Betsy and Josh could take him out quickly if he gave them the chance, and he _knew _what to expect from the rest of us. Oh shit. Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit."

Mr. McCoy frowned, quickly turning and heading towards what Nori assumed was the direction of his office at a brisk walk. She followed after him, anxiety pushing her headache away from her focus.

"What are we going to do?" she asked, a hint of hysteria creeping into her voice.

"The only thing we can do," Mr. McCoy said as he began to sort through his disorganized papers spread over his desk, looking for his communicator, "We're going to call Wolverine."

Wolverine, yes, he'd be able to find Rogue. He'd make everything oka-

okay…

It was no secret that Rogue was Wolverine's favourite student, just like it was no secret that he was over protective of her.

Just like it was no secret that he would punish everyone she'd been with when taken for not protecting her in his absence.

She could practically hear the ominous music in the background as Mr. McCoy pulled out his communicator.

**(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())**

Selene lounged on her throne, a majestic chair that had been beautifully carved from ebony by her faithful servants… and her slaves. Throngs of black roses weaved themselves along the back, thorns artistically carved among them to show the cruelty of their beauty.

There were two other thrones on either side of her, one made of blood red cherry wood on her right with sharp, deadly hellebore flowers edging it decoratively and the one on her left carved from white ash wood and a single white Casablanca lily blooming from the armrest, very much alive and wilting.

In this white chair sat a little girl, white blond hair almost disappearing into the wood behind it and framing her thin, pale face. Her eyes that must have been a vibrant bright blue once, but have since then dulled to an empty flat shade, fixed straight ahead and seeing nothing as they looked out from their dark hollows. Her lips were thin and chapped, and everything about her screamed frail and malnourished, despite the fine white dress she wore that draped over her like a ceremonial robe and suggesting wealth.

A little monarch butterfly fluttered around her shoulders, its wings seeming to glow with the life that was lacking in the little girl's eyes.

Wither did not bother to see these things, eyes only for his queen, or rather his queen's shoes, as he bowed before Selene's feet as he waited for her to speak.

"I'm very disappointed in you, Wither." Her regal voice was flat and cold, sending a shiver of awe to run down his spine. This was his master, this was his Goddess. He had never felt so unworthy to be in her presence as after he had failed her.

"My sincerest apologies, My Lady." He said to the floor, unworthy to look at her face, "I pray you can find it in your heart to forgive me."

There was a moment as Selene contemplated.

"Stand."

Wither pushed himself upright, slowly getting to his feet, though he kept his gaze downcast.

"You still care for your old allies."

It wasn't a question, because the mighty Selene already knew. She was so wise, she was so much greater then he. She could easily see through his façade.

"I tried to leave all of my past life behind, I truly did."

Wither did not see Selene's mouth curl into a beautifully cruel grin.

"Do not feel too hard, my dear Wither. Sometimes you need _help_ to let go of your past life. Mortis certainly needed my aid to let go of her former self. And you know how… difficult it was to persuade Blink to join us."

Wither managed to crack a small smile at the memory. Yes, all of the members of the Inner Circle had had to let their old identities go. No, not just let them go, but kill them, kill them like how it was in their nature. Blink had been a little more stubborn then the others.

"We'll have to fix you're predicament. You'll need a little push to make you let go of your old ties with the X-Men." She reached out and gripped his arm, pulling him closer to her, "And I believe that I have just the thing."

Wither shivered as she leaned forward and pressed a cold kiss to his neck.

"A-and what would that be?" his voice faltered slightly as he felt her teeth graze his ear lobe.

"I believe that we've been ignoring the existence of the X-Men long enough." She whispered into his ear, "So many mutants ripe for the picking… You'll bring them to me." She gently took his hand in her own, "You'll bring all that are worthy to serve me."

Blissful tremors continued to run down his arms. She was so beautiful, so perfect in every way, the epitome of beauty. A goddess mistakenly given a mortal body.

"Y-yes." He turned his head so to kiss her on the lips as he felt her touch trail along his cheek.

"Good." She whispered, and suddenly a slicing pain broke from his hand. He cried out as Selene let him go, stepping away from him with her dagger in her hand. His own blood dripped along the blade.

A long, deep gash had been cut along his hand.

"Terribly sorry, Wither dear." She said as she inspected the dagger, "But such disobedience must be paid in blood, as you know." The dagger glowed lightly, his blood slowly seeping into the bone until it was a bright white again, "And I think this much will suffice."

She slid the dagger back into her garter, reaching out and grabbing his wrist. She held it, palm up, so that she could look at the cut their. The ruby liquid dipped off of his fingers in large drops, hitting the black marble floor with dull little 'drips'.

"So will you, Wither? Will you bring me the X-men student's?"

Wither swallowed deeply as she gently observed the wound in apparent worry.

"Of course." He said quietly. She was, after all, a goddess.

She smiled at his hand.

"Lovely."

She licked the cut with one long stroke, letting out a small Mmm at the taste.

"Simply lovely." She whispered as she let go of his hand.

The little girl with the butterfly fluttering around her shoulders offered Wither a small pitying look.

**(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())**

Rogue was jarred violently from her nightmare, chocking back a scream as she watched the evil woman lick blood from her lips, and not fully understanding the significance of it. She just knew that it was something awful, something worse then just eating someone's blood like some kind of wanna-be vampire.

How Rogue hated vampires. All of them, from the sparkly kind to the wanna-be kind to even Anna Rice's kind, though those last ones _might _be tolerable. They reminded her too much of herself.

Another violent shiver ran up her spine, and she silently cursed whoever chose the site of Selene's base for not picking somewhere warmer. The added cold was not helping with her situation. Another shiver.

God, how she wanted a nice hot shower.

_That's weird,_ a human psyche noted, _wood is supposed to be a good insulator, you should be warmer then this._

Rogue sat up slowly, scooting over to the closest wall to lean against. No way she'd be falling asleep now. And this time she meant it.

_But stone is a high-quality conductor of temperature and may have overwhelmed the natural insulation properties of the wood and greatly lowered the calefaction of the room._

…_Anyone know what Hank just said?_

_I do! Well, I know that word 'calefaction'; it has something to do with heat._

_Of course __**you **__would know that John._

Rogue groaned and squeezed her temples. She felt like the feeble mental dam she _had _managed to put up in order to block the psyches was starting to spill over, too many voices then it could hold back. The renewed psyches of John, Amara, Tabitha, Betsy, and Nori had been the tipping point, Rogue was sure of it.

She wouldn't be able to last much longer like this. Sooner or later one of the psyches was going to take over completely. Or all of them together would weaken her willpower enough that she could no longer keep them at bay, then take turns superintending over her body.

They were so loud. And she was so cold.

_Well, at least this gives us a new clue. Wherever you are is cold for most of the year, otherwise it would be warmer down here then outside. Actually, maybe it's just __**really **__cold._

_Not helping, Amara._

_Well I do not here you saying anything useful, Josh. You are supposed to be an expert on the human body; do you not have any idea of how to get her warm? Her shivers are distracting me. _

_Ya, actually I do. She could share body heat._

Rogue cringed as one hundred different exclamations of protest made her ears ring.

_As in cuddle? With __**him**__? Ewwww, that is so weird Josh. How can you even think of that?_

_Well, actually…sharing body heat is a good way to keep warm._

_Holy crap Logan, I can't believe you're, like, encouraging this._

_Hey, half-pint, if it means that Rogue doesn't freeze to death, I'll bite._

_Oh, come on. It's not like she can just, like, ask him to share body heat with her. Can you imagine that conversation?_

Rogue sat up suddenly, a growl ripping through her chest.

"SHUT UP!" she screamed, "ALL OF YOU JUST SHUT UP!"

There was a moment of silence in her mind, and then all of the voices returned at once, scolding her for scaring them like that and telling _her_ to shut up and apologizing to her. She crumpled forward.

She didn't even realize she was crying until someone placed a hand on her shoulder, making her automatically jerk away from the touch as she barred her teeth and snarled. God, the things she'd picked up from Logan.

It was Gambit, of course, because who else could it have been? His eyes were downcast, looking anywhere but at her.

"Chère?"

A one-word question. One that wasn't even in English. But there was so much asked with that one word that there was no need to elaborate. Silence. Then:

_Well, don't just sit there. Tell him to leave you alone, hit him, push him into a wall, do __**something.**_

Rogue trembled for a moment, wanting to scream for silence again. But instead she hunched over, burying her face into her hands as more tears fell.

She didn't want to cry in front of him. She didn't want to show weakness. She didn't want a reason to seem vulnerable. Vulnerability gave people an excuse to take advantage of you.

But still she cried. Rogue felt an arm go around her shoulders awkwardly. She leaned into him unconscious, still trembling. She could feel his body heat radiating off of him heavily. Mmm. Warm.

The arm shifted to fit around her more comfortably, the other wrapping around her in a kind of messed-up friendly hug.

And he was so warm. It was nice, the relief from the cold.

The voices remained silent for once. She didn't question it; the silence was too tranquil, so perfect.

Before she knew what was happening, she was resting her head against his chest, exhausted. Glancing up at his face, she gazed at him through heavy eyelids. His head was leaning back against the wall and his eyes closed. He was so… so pretty. His features were angular and defined, but not in a way that looked fake, and his auburn hair was ruffled slightly from his failed attempts at sleep.

"Hey, Gambit?" She said quietly, still staring at his face.

"Mhmm?" He mumbled, rather tiredly.

"If you feel me up, Ah swear to God Ah'll castrate you."

She felt rather then heard him laugh lightly.

"I'll keep dat in mind, chere."

**OMG I FINISHED! Everyone freak out. AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!**

**Encase you didn't realize it; the beginning is after Rogue woke up from her Remy-induced sleep. When the flash-back starts, that's Rogue dreaming. When the POV goes to Surge (Nori) and Wither, that's Rogue being generally messed up and dreaming about things that are actually happening. More on this later. The very end was Rogue waking up from the 'Cannibalistic Selene' nightmare/flashback.**

**And so concludes my days of messed up timelines. If you're lucky it will never happen again. Ever.**

**Peut-être = maybe**

**Scarlet Witch a mixture of comic Wanda and Evo Wanda, just in case you didn't figure it out. Pentacle 'cause, hey, wouldn't it be funny if the Scarlet Witch was a Wiccan, and therefore modern witch?**

**Review, because if you do then you will be helping the children of Tezbecistaniagodad learn how to bake pies. Then throw them at your enemies.**

**Pyros around the world ignite! But please keep the flames out of reviews, because that just takes the fun out of that, now don't it?**

**And though no one cares: THIS SUCKER WAS 20 PAGES AND 9,556 WORDS LONG! BOOYA!**


	7. Musings

**Sorry for the long wait. The last two months have been crazy busy, and at this point I have a strong longing to throw something at my history teacher for being incompetent. Yes, I KNOW WHAT A F***ING MUSKEG IS! WE'VE BEEN ON THIS FOR FORTY FIVE MINUTES! CAN WE PLEASE MOVE ON!**

**Grrrrrrrr. But things have started to slow down, with less than half of the weddings, confirmations, major projects, quizzes, ridiculously complicated assignments, random times of my parents saying 'CLEAN THE HOUSE OR DIE!' and new purchases of computers of the last two months.**

**Sorry, I've been rambling. If you're still reading this note, kudos to you.**

**Here it is, enjoy.**

Her sleep was restless. Remy watched as she whimpered and tossed and turned, the invisible monsters of her mind ruthlessly attacking her. He could feel her horror and fear rolling off of her in heady waves, berating his own mind and making sleep for _himself_ impossible as his muscles automatically clenched to face any threat she feared that he couldn't see, even though his common sense told him that there was nothing to be worried about.

But still, her fear had set off his adrenalin, and it was hard to sleep when your heart was racing specifically to keep you awake.

So he instead watched her on the other side of the room, watched her as a sheen of sweat covered her pallid skin, as she mumbled objections and exclamations of fear, as she moved arms over her head as if to try and protect herself from an inevitable strike, and finally as she shot up from her uneasy slumber, rod straight and chocking on her own breath, clearly holding back a scream.

Remy saw her eyes shift a few times, brown and blue and hazel and black, as she tried to blink away the tears that were gathering in her eyes. Tears of relief or tears of horror, he didn't know for sure thanks to the strong mixture of non-compatible emotions coming from her, but he did know that whatever it was that was wrong with her head was doing _something_.

Judging by the way she kept cringing and by the despair that came from her whenever her eyes became green, it wasn't a good thing.

Tears of despair then.

He watched her carefully as her eyes shifted more and more rapidly, at times almost blending into one another, and her eyes becoming glossy, her lip beginning to tremble.

And she screamed at the silence to shut up.

He had thought the blood lust she had been feeling towards him earlier was alarmingly potent, that the way she had genuinely wanted to see him die was frightening.

But it was nothing compared to this… passionate loathing. The way he could actually see that her hatred made every muscle in her body clench and spasm. The way she lifted her head as if she was glaring at God himself, demanding that her wishes be heeded or she would set fire to his earth. The way she felt ready, and _able, _to get up and crush the world in her palm if they disobeyed her.

And then, before he could comprehend the transition, she was in tears.

Remy hadn't known what to do with _that. _The _Rogue_, the one that every last one of his sources had told him was always carefully cool, carefully blank, carefully emotionless, that he had witnessed himself being calm and collected, was weeping right there in front of him like… like… oh, who knows? Like every last one of her family members had been slaughtered in front of her?

That was something that made people sob so hard that their whole body shook with the effort of it, right?

So what did Remy do? Why, he did what any gentleman with half a mind would have done in his situation. He went over there to comfort the lady.

Of course, this 'lady' _did_ snarl at him wildly and jerk away as he tried to place a comforting hand on her shoulder, her eyes continuing to rapidly shift into every possible (and even some not-possible) color as she glared at him with tears still running down her face.

"Chère?"

Her eyes snapped back to green, despair returning tenfold as he said that one word. Then there was a dash of anger, and of brown in her left eye, and her face crumpled as renewed sobs wrenched her body.

He sat next to her awkwardly for a moment, hands hovering over her, unsure what to do. She was, for obvious reasons, sensitive to any kind of physical contact. Remy had had his fair share of girlfriends, many of whom he had seen cry in front of him more then he would have liked. But on all of those occasions he had been able to comfort them with flattering words and tender touches, neither of which he expected to work on Rogue.

But, never the less, he tried. He tried to give her a friendly hug, though it turned out just being an awkward sort of arm-over-her-shoulders… thing.

He opened his mouth to try and give her some comforting words, but before a sound could escape...

She leaned into him.

He honestly hadn't known what to expect, but that hadn't been it. Push him away and call him no-good Cajun scum, maybe, at the very best remain indifferent, but _accept _the embrace? He had _not _seen that coming. Just like he hadn't expected for her tears to slowly disappear, or for her to tiredly lean her head onto his chest, a sort of… contentment radiating off of her.

He was surprised, but he wasn't complaining. He automatically moved his arms from around her shoulders to around her waist, pulling her slightly closer. Remy LeBeau was not someone to refuse a beautiful woman who wanted to be held.

Her eyes, emerald again, glanced up at him, exhaustion clearly clouding them.

"Hey, Gambit?" she murmured as her eyelids drooped.

"Mhmm?" he stared at her pinkish lips through mostly-closed eyes as her mouth turned into a weak scowl.

"If you feel me up, Ah swear to God I'll castrate you."

He chuckled lightly as her eyes fluttered closed. Now _that _was what he expected to hear from her. For a moment there, he had actually thought she was going to _thank _him or something.

"I'll keep dat in mind, chère." He whispered to her as he felt her drift off, back into sleep, this time soundly as he leaned them both back onto the ground so they were lying semi-comfortably. Well, she was lying semi-comfortably. He, on the other hand, got the brunt of the not-so-comfortable floor.

Remy stared down at her face as she slept, a small smile hovering around her lips, so scarce he wasn't completely sure it was really there. But what were indisputably there were the content feelings now coming off of her, the strange mixture of emotions from before now missing. Remy didn't know if he was more confused or flattered.

Flattered because it was like now that she was closer to him, the nightmares seemed to have gone away, presumably because of his dashing good looks and oh-so-wonderful personality. And confused because, judging by the way she'd been trying to kill him and gouge his eyeballs out of his head; his presence shouldn't have made her happy.

Unless he was mistaken about her being asleep and he was actually about to die. He almost checked to see if there was a dagger pressed to his stomach when he remembered that Mortis and Blink would have searched Rogue for any hidden weapons when they changed her into the prisoner uniform.

So… was it something about him? Some trait that she subconsciously found comforting? She was from the south, he could tell as much from her Mississippi accent, and yet she lived in New York. Surely something about him must have reminded her of the home she had obviously been away from for a long time. That could be comforting enough to calm nightmares. He was pretty sure there was some psycho-whatsit study that went along those lines.

Though _her_ nightmares didn't seem like the kind that psycho-whatsits would take into consideration, and judging by the way her eyes had been changing almost spastically after she woke up, he would put his money on power-caused nightmares.

_I am one hundred and one different people, all conveniently wrapped up into one little package. _

That's what she'd said. Which pretty much ruled out split personality, as a person with more than two personalities were pretty much non-existent, and more than one hundred personalities was kind of pushing it. But the mood-swings, layered emotions, long pauses in conversation, changing eyes, responding to silence, blank looks, and random grimaces did suggest there was more than one person in her head, and that they didn't exactly see eye to eye. Probably a large collection of voices in her head, somehow caused by her powers.

What did he know about her mutation? If the information from his sources was as accurate as he believed (and it better be, or he knew a couple of people in New Orleans who'd just become unemployed), he knew when she came into skin-to-skin contact with someone, she absorbed their energy. This included their life force (leading to pain, unconsciousness, and possibly death), knowledge about that person's plans and abilities, and in the case of mutants, temporary power absorption.

So… she had voices in her head caused by her mutation of absorbing everything that makes a person a _person _through skin contact. Including knowledge. Knowledge that she'd have to go into a person's mind specifically to absorb. Was it that every time she needed to find some information from the person she absorbed she gets an imprint of their personality in her mind? One that would cause her trouble and make her eyes change color whenever the personality became prominent?

That sounded about right. But there were so _many _different eye colors and moods. She was how old? Seventeen? Eighteen? She couldn't have had her mutation all that long. Remy's had appeared when he was around fourteen, and he heard that they almost never showed up before twelve years of age. So six years with the mutation, tops. And probably three of those years too young to be using her mutation for information gathering, unless Xavier's was more eager to 'change the world' then Remy had originally thought.

He doubted all those eyes came from her trying to find information in the last three years, especially if she clearly was not happy about them. She wouldn't have just gone around absorbing people for the fun of it, or even if her superior had told her to, considering it obviously wasn't a pleasant experience for her.

And if he had her powers, he'd probably be mostly using it to absorb the powers of others more then to find information. Clearly, she had little to no control over her powers, and probably wouldn't be able to pick out specific information anyways. Why, she probably _always _took information from the people she absorbed, whether she wanted to or not.

Along with a little copy of them.

Well, that's not fun. And she was an X-man, too. He was pretty sure a lot of the people they faced were deeply disturbed people, deeply disturbed people she had probably absorbed one time or another.

Again, not fun.

It was no wonder her sleep hadn't been calm earlier, with that kind of crap piled up behind her skull. Heck, it was a wonder how she _wasn't_ screaming now.

And she definitely wasn't screaming. Quite the contrary, actually, as Remy felt her arms winding around his chest, hugging him close as she shifted herself slightly so that her face was more on his shoulder then on his chest. A small, almost bubbly giggle vibrated in her throat as she nuzzled the fabric covering his shoulder.

He smiled slightly, placing a hand on her head and gently rubbing the silky strands of her hair through his fingers and deciding that she was much more likable when she was asleep.

Rogue was pretty, even though at the moment she didn't exactly look her best. Her thick auburn and white curls looked like a pile upon pile upon pile of knots and tangles, not to mention the mascara she must have quickly put on before leaving with her friends was by now running down her face and smudged around her eyes, making the dark circles already there look darker.

But she _was_ still pretty. Her face was still appealing, her lips still full and pink, her nose still straight, her hair still shining, her jaw still femininely curved. And though when awake her features were obscured by scowls and grimaces and snarls, in sleep she looked… sweet.

She mumbled something about 'com'ere', reaching up a hand to curl into his hair and pull herself closer to his face.

He stiffened slightly when he felt her face moving towards the exposed skin of his neck, not daring to move an inch as she stopped with her nose a hair's breath away from the flesh, a light buzzing of anticipation seeming to hum along his skin.

She inhaled deeply. The feeling of contentment coming off of her increased, and he couldn't help but feel a little amused, despite the fact that her skin was dangerously close to his, by her apparent fondness of his smell.

She made a small 'Mmm' sound in the back of her throat before pressing her face right up to his skin, inhaling again.

He held his breath as he felt the contact, cringing slightly as he prepared to be absorbed. It was about ten seconds before he finally made himself relax.

Okay, good. Whatever had caused her powers to not work on him earlier was still going strong. That was good, because he was fairly certain that if it hadn't he'd be either dead or dying by now and Rogue probably wouldn't have realized it until she woke up in the morning.

Dying was not something he wanted to do just yet. Someday, yes, but not at that moment.

Her head was tucked snugly under his chin, making it impossible for him to look down at her without disturbing her slumber. And, as he mentioned before, she was more likable asleep, Remy didn't really feel like doing that just yet.

So instead he reached up to her head, brushing back some of her hair so to reveal the alabaster skin of her neck, gently brushing his rough fingertips along the smooth flesh.

Virgin skin. He was probably the first to touch it without ill-effects since her powers manifested.

How special.

He continued to lightly stroke her skin, feeling carefully for anything, _anything_ that might indicate what was stopping her mutation from working on him.

Obviously their powers weren't being negated, as his night vision was still working in the dark room and he could still feel the energy of the room, the energy floating in the _air,_ cackling at his fingertips, though he knew that he wouldn't be able to make anything explode if he even bothered trying to convert it to kinetic energy. It would just fizzle out before doing anything useful, like exploding. He'd had his powers negated before, and that wasn't how it felt. More like some kind of screen had been placed over his senses, and he had felt so damn _normal._ Ew. Normal.

So he definitely had some kind of immunity to her. Doubtful that it was just in his DNA, because there were very few mutations that could work on a DNA level anyways, even _Remy_ knew that.

It seemed more likely that his mutation cancelled hers out somehow. He was, after all, generating the energy around him at all times whether he wanted to or not, which was why he always felt warm to others, and she absorbed energy. Maybe he was generating it so fast that her mutation couldn't keep up.

He closed his eyes, concentrating on the energy molecules he could sense hovering between their skin. They appeared in his vision like tiny dots of red on the backs of his eyelids, a tiny map of red stars vibrating and bouncing off one another.

No, it didn't seem like she was taking any energy in, though he probably wouldn't be able to recognize her mutation running right away anyways. But he assumed that her powers would have to work on an at least a noticeable rate for it to start on her… 'victims' so quickly.

He softly cupped her neck, keeping his eyes closed and feeling for the energy. His own body's energy seemed glowed red hot, pure and empty of interruptions. She, on the other hand, was like a dark void. Every place that was not covered by clothing was like a blind spot in his vision, the only energy that seemed to cling to her was either in her hair or clothing. Her mouth, the line where her eyelids met, her nostrils, and her ears were the only exceptions, where he supposed the energy _inside _her body was escaping.

He lifted his hand from her neck and held it so that it just barely wasn't touching her, close enough to still feel the fine hairs of her neck. For a moment he thought he could hear a faint buzzing coming from where their skin almost met. He placed his hand down.

The buzzing disappeared.

Interesting.

He lifted his hand again, this time concentrating on the energy that seemed to be cackling when he neared her skin. Energy seemed to gather in the air between them, both collected from the air and radiating directly from his skin. The dots of red hoped and twirled and shuddered, extremely active.

Hand down.

The energy compressed to his skin, making a thin barrier of rapidly moving static between them.

He once spoke to a telepath who'd tried to read his mind. They told him that if they hadn't been trying to specifically read him, they wouldn't have even noticed his psychic signature, easily missing him in a quick sweep. But when they _did _concentrate, they became aware of the static that seemed to take the place of his thoughts. The energy he generated scrambled their powers and made him become a blank spot according to their mutant abilities. Like in the light of their mutation, he didn't exist.

Was it the same way with touch-based powers? Was it that, to them, they weren't touching anything and so remained dormant, even when the mutant was aware it _should _be working? Remy didn't know. Rogue would be the first for him to test it on.

Though, judging by the way he _wasn't dead, _he was pretty sure it was a success.

She mumbled into his neck, inhaling again and rubbing her cheek against his stubble as she unconsciously slid her knee up the outside of his leg, stopping at his hip before making its way back down slightly so that she could hook her leg around his thigh. She snoozed on; unaware of the fact that Remy's mouth had just gone dry.

A very _good _success.

So she wasn't absorbing him because his mutation seemed to be making some kind of static shield between them. But then there were the nightmares. Somehow he doubted that his being close to her was what was chasing the fears of others from her dreams.

Again, it was probably his mutation's doing. He didn't really need another thing that his powers affected. But then again, what _didn't_ his powers affect? Energy was _everywhere, _in everyone, in everything, in emotions, most of it dormant until he came close to it, making the molecules heat up and vibrate, enough to cause it to explode if he chooses, without even adding any extra energy to the mix.

He closed his eyes again, reaching his senses out to the energy he could feel. He lifted his hand from her neck, this time bringing it to the patch of hair he could reach that was right under his chin, beneath which her temple laid. He lightly raked his fingers through her hair.

Her emotions came to him more clearly as he did this, his hands close enough to her brain that he could feel her feelings as they shifted and danced with her dreams almost as clearly as if they were his own.

Funny thing, his empathy. He could sense the emotions of others by the type of energy they gave off. When he goes near a person, the type of energy they emit registers with his brain as sort of mini-emotions in the back of his mind, getting more and more potent as he gets closer.

The emotions of the people around him were strong enough for their presence to register with him but dull enough that they didn't affect his own emotions. He could only influence them if he converted a small amount of energy into the kind of energy that would create his ideal emotion, the same way he converted potential energy into kinetic energy to make things explode and tap into the energy around him and convert it to energy that he himself can use to increase his stamina and agility.

But it was hard to actually accomplish anything that would make much of a difference in them.

He gave people _suggestions_ to what he wanted them to feel. Unless they were completely zoned out or mostly asleep, it almost never did anything. But even though he'd probably be able to calm Rogue down if he wanted, it probably wasn't his empathy. That usually took a ridiculous amount of concentration, enough that it was impossible for him to be using it by accident. _Reading _emotions may have been passive, but trying to change them definitely wasn't.

So when else did his powers affect thoughts?

Remy grimaced as his thoughts inevitably turned to his _other_ mental power. Hypnotic charm. Not a secondary power he was particularly proud of. And yet another reason why he'd gouge out his _own _eyes if it wouldn't mean blindness.

He himself wasn't completely positive how it worked. He knew that when he looked into people's eyes directly with his own and spoke with them, their tongue would loosen and they would start to talk about things he was fairly certain they wouldn't have said a single word about otherwise. And the moment he broke eye contact, they would either become extremely confused, disorientated, or angry.

His powers involved potential energy, at least all the parts of his powers that he fully understood did, so he was almost positive that this 'Charm' probably involved energy… and the brain too.

He had his theories, of course. Before he knew what a mutant was and he truly believed he was the son of Satan, he was convinced that he was using the devil's persuasive powers. But he'd since been educated otherwise, and was now, mostly, positive that he was _not _the devil's spawn. He'd gone through a number of other theories since then, but none seemed to fit as well as charging the energy in people's brains. Not enough to make the brain explode, obviously, just a light charge to confuse the though process like he confused the powers of telepaths.

Remy frowned slightly, absently tracing a small circle on Rogues scalp with his fingers. He doubted that he was charging the brain tissue itself, considering he couldn't even charge organic things. So he must charge the thoughts directly…

And with his eyes.

That was a creepy thought. Sometimes he had trouble controlling his powers when they were activated by his _hands,_ and he usually wore gloves that he couldn't charge. But if he could start to make things explode just by _looking_ at them…

He squeezed his eyes shut a little tighter, trying to push away the unpleasant scenarios he pictured happening. He shouldn't get ahead of himself, at the moment all he could charge things to explosive potential with were his _hands_.

But if he was charging _Rogue's_ thoughts and making them confused… maybe the psyches were sort of like a telepath's presence… a weak telepath. Maybe they could get scrambled when he was near. Why, he wouldn't even need to charge her thoughts on purpose. From the look of how she was shivering earlier, this cell would probably be cold to a normal person. He'd be passively charging more energy than usual around himself to keep himself warm if it was.

And all she'd need to do to be affected would be to come close to him. In turn making any voice-in-her-head induced nightmares go away.

Rogue gently rubbed her face against the skin of his neck, giggling lightly as she pressed her face closer to his skin.

Wow… she was one happy girl when she didn't have voices-in-her-head induced nightmares.

He continued to idly stroke her hair, noting somewhere unimportant that if the scenario had been different, Rogue would have been his type. Pretty, yes, but she was also one hell of a fiery girl. She was a mystery that was just begging to be solved, a challenge that only he could possibly meet.

She was _interesting_.

But she was out of bounds. Not because of her powers, or even because of the shell she'd pulled herself into, or even because of what he was sure was a low social status. But because she was a danger to him, to his family, to _everything_, because of who was after her and who wanted her. And as much as he'd like to solve to mystery that was Rogue, if the situation he was in right then wasn't a perfect example of the risks of lingering with her presented then nothing was.

Selene wanted her. So Selene would have her. One way or another. He didn't want to be anywhere near this place when it happened.

He shifted slightly, attempting to make himself more comfortable in vain. Rogue murmured her objections, tightening her grip on his neck and wrapping her leg around his securely. He stiffened when her hand trailed from his neck and down his chest, somehow landing on his hip.

Remy smiled to himself. Ha, and she'd been warning _him _not to feel her up.

He may not be allowed to have her, but at least at that moment he could pretend. Give a little more comfortable sleeping surface and a little less clothing, and he could get used to this. He wouldn't get the chance, but he could.

He stifled a yawn as he felt his tiredness start to weigh down his thoughts. It had been a long day, even for him. He'd been awake most nights, with only an hour or two of sleep in between, of the last week, researching his latest 'job' of kidnapping. Stealing _people_ wasn't exactly his forte, and he had wanted to be positive that he wouldn't get… how had Rogue put it again? Sliced and diced? Ya, he didn't want to get sliced and diced.

But even if he was tired, he _shouldn't _sleep. All of his instincts were telling him not to, that sleep would be letting his guard down when he was clearly in danger and leaving him vulnerable to attack…

…But then again…

There _was_ a beautiful woman curled up against him.

And, uh… if he was well rested he would be more prepared to defend himself…

Aww, to hell with it. He just wanted to sleep.

He let himself relax, Rogue's content, safe feelings slowly lulling him to sleep as his breath evened.

She smelled nice. Had he already mentioned that? Well, if he did, that was fine, because it was worth repeating… over and over and over and over and over and over and… and…

Mmmmm...

The next thing he knew, he was jerking awake up to someone screaming bloody murder.

**Grrrrrr. This isn't even the whole chapter. Hell, it's not even half. The last…three quarters have been really ticking me off. All of this 'nessissary chapters' thing is getting dull for me. But hopefully not for you.**

**And there was this funny scene I had for the end of this chapter (pouts). I was really looking forward to posting it but I guess I'll just have to wait. (goes into her corner to cry)**

**Flames are for envisioning setting your teacher on fire with (*cough*but not actually setting them on fire in real life… ehhm). But flames are NOT for reviewing.**

**Review, or Hat Man will find you and follow you with his creepy cheerful smile 24/7. This is extremely weird and scary, so I suggest you press that button.**


	8. Deal

**Chpt. 7 (Deal)**

**As excited as I am for the upcoming X-men First Class movie, I'm sort of worried that it'll contradict my plans. So if you're reading this AFTER the movie, then please understand that I'm over-exercising my creative license here anyways, and anything that changes thanks to the movie wasn't considered by me.**

**Disclaimer: I own Bob the imaginary pony and my pet flying man-eating pigs because once I was a strange little girl. But they aren't even in this story (can I fix that?) so it seems a little redundant to mention that. **

**What was my point again?**

**Oh ya. I don't own anything you recognize as someone else's unless you're mistaken about recognizing it. **

**I got braces. Radical Red and Pudoncular Purple elastics. Just thought I'd share that with people I know don't care. I also dyed my hair bright red. Papa took one look at me and said 'you look like that x-man. What's her name? The one that can control the weather. I think her name is Rue'. It was really hard not to start laughing.**

**About the ages of characters in this fic, because even I was confused to how old they were, Rogue and most of the other Xavier kids (including Wither) are eighteen. 18. Eight + ten. One-eight. 18% of 100. Remy is twenty-****ish**** (let's remember he doesn't know his birthday). And that's everyone who matters in my screwed up universe of 'I don't like this, POOF! It's fixed!' **

**Best. Universe. Ever.**

**(()) (()) (()) (()) (()) (()) (()) (())**

Rogue felt warm. She felt peaceful. And, most importantly, she felt well rested.

How long had it been since she'd slept through the entire night without waking up, screaming, from the memories of others?

About three years, that's how long. And God damn, it felt goooooood not to have horrific nightmares.

Her dreams hadn't been so random since she absorbed David on that fateful day. They had always had some kind of plot; some kind of fixed ending that she somehow always knew was coming and yet never expected it once it came.

But that night had been a random collection of faces and memories from _her _life. Not Bobby's, not Storm's, not Piotr's, _Rogue's._

And that made her satisfied beyond words. It didn't matter that her pyjamas were strangely uncomfortable, or that her bed unusually hard, or that her pillow was breathing. None of those things were important anymore, because for once the only voice in her head was her own.

There had been no holocaust, no fighting over food on the streets, no being sold into slavery, no mutant experimentation. The only thing there _had _been an excess of was Mississippi sunlight and smells.

She was mostly awake now, and knew somewhere in the back of her mind that she usually got up around this time, but she didn't care. She was on holiday, and why did she always have to be the first one down to the kitchen anyways? A cold breakfast was probably still pretty good. And who was going to stop her? No one, that's who. She could stay in bed all day if she wanted. This feeling was too perfect to cut short because of _habits. _Too perfect for her to ever want to end it.

And then her pillow murmured something and tightened its arms around her waist.

Her brow furrowed at this, her thoughts still muddled by drowsiness. There was something wrong with that… she just knew it. Inanimate objects… don't usually have arms that could move by themselves. Right? Ya, she was pretty sure that was right. Come to think of it, they usually didn't breath or murmur things either.

Wait. Why does she care again? Oh, that's right.

She didn't.

She cuddled deeper into her pillow, her cheek brushing against something prickly, but not unpleasantly so. The feeling made her giggle lightly in the back of her throat. She brushed her face against it again, pressing her skin firmly against the funny texture. It was nice. And _warm._

And underneath the prickles, something that felt strangely like… but it couldn't possibly be... for some reason… what was it again? Oh ya, her mutation.

So therefore it couldn't possibly be _skin_.

Right?

A little stroke of common sense finally managed to convince her to break the spell and crack an eye open to check.

The sight that greeted her was bare, tan flesh pressed up against her bare, pale skin. And yet she wasn't absorbing anything.

Almost like there was nothing left to absorb.

A bloodcurdling scream tore from her throat as she pushed away from the body, trying to scramble back only to have her legs tangle up with the person's and make her tumble back to the ground.

**(())(())(())(())**

Gambit jerked awake, and Rogue froze, her eyes widening as he sat up with bleary red and black eyes and rumpled hair.

"Chère? Wha' y' screamin' 'bout?"

Rogue continued to stare at him, confused.

"Y-you're not dead?"

Gambit raised an eyebrow, a tired smirk tugging on his lips.

"Well, 'pparently not. Sorry t' disappoint y'."

"But… but my skin…Ah… was touching your skin," a hand reached up to her temple in confusion as she looked for the psyche among the voices in her head. He wasn't there. "Are our powers being negated? Why didn't Ah absorb ya?"

He cracked his neck and groaned, infuriatingly not worried. Did he not realize he should be _dead! _As in _not alive! _Why had she let him so close? Why had he _come _so close?

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

"Well," he said as he crossed his legs into a more comfortable position, "I can still see in de dark, so I guess we still 'ave our powers, and I assume _yo'_ powers didn' work fo' de same reason y' didn' absorb me yesterday… earlier today… Hey, what time do y' t'ink it is?"

Rogue gawked at him as he nonchalantly leaned foreword, smirking at her slightly as he rested his elbows on his knees, eyes downcast as if the floor was something terribly interesting.

"Ah didn't absorb ya yesterday?"

He cocked his head to the side, the smirk tugging higher as if she was being incredibly amusing.

"Y' know, chère, dat memory o' yours could use some work. During de fight, de _first_ fight, you pressed y' cheek t' mine," he sighed at the memory, "Actually, I t'ought y' were gonna kiss me. Mais, dat was alright, aussi. An' not'in' 'appened. Didn' t'ink dat was somet'ing y'd forget très vite."

She stared at him blankly for a moment. Did he just say…?

_OH MY GOD! _Tabitha's voice suddenly screamed inside Rogue's head, making her wince slightly, _HE CAN TOUCH YOU! You can touch the hot, bad, hot French hotty! I'm actually jealous of you… Mmm… delicious French man candy._

_I believe he is of the Cajun origin, Tabitha, not the French. And you seem to believe all males are the 'delicious man candy'._

_True, but this is a particularly __**nice**__ man candy. I mean look at him! He's like… The epitome of all things I find hot!_

_He's still an asshole. _

_Julian!_

_What? You can't pretend it's not true, Ms. Monroe._

_But he's a __**hot **__asshole. And he has a hot ass. He's a bad, hot, French…_

_Cajun_

… _hot, nice-assed, hot man that Rogue can touch. GIMME! GIMME! GIMME!_

Rogue, pressed her lips in a thin line at her psyches'… _enthusiastic _return to having their opinions.

"To be honest," she said a little dryly, "Ah don't remember much from _yesterday_, considering a certain _someone _drugged me."

Gambit pursed his lips slightly, the amusement flickering in his face before he took on a carefully innocent expression as she shakily got to her feet.

"Hmm, I guess I should start readin' de package when I buy some knock-out drugs from un strange homme in a dark alley. I wonder if 'oles in de memory are a symptom?" Rogue glared at him for what she _hoped _was a bad joke. Though she wouldn't put it past the guy to buy drugs from a shady source if it would save him a penny or two, "Well, t' fill y' in, y' would 'ave won, but apparently God decided t' give me one last stroke o' good luck, before screwin' me over dat is, an' you didn' absorb me."

She raised an eyebrow.

"So…what? Are ya _immune _to my powers or something?"

Gambit scratched the stubble on his chin, taking on a more thoughtful expression.

"Not sure. I got a t'eory, dough…"

Rogue waited for him to go on. He didn't.

"And this theory is…"

His smirk lessened slightly as he stood up, straightening his rumpled shirt with a quick tug, continuing his silence with no sign of planning to continue.

Why that little piece of…

_Language, __Sachlich__! It is wise to keep your thoughts free of sin._

… Uh, piece of Snicker Doodle. Ya… Snicker Doodle.

That's a bad thing, right?

_Depends, is being a piece of cookie a bad thing?_

When Gambit was satisfied with the state of his clothing, he turned his demonic eyes on Rogue, reaching out both his hands like he was going to grab her. She flinched back from him, her lips curling back as a snarl ripped from her chest.

He rolled his eyes as if _she_ was being unreasonable.

"Relax, chère, Gambit jus' wanna test somet'ing out."

He reached out towards her again, and Rogue again recoiled away from his skin. He stepped forward. She stepped backward. Step forward. Step backward. Step. Step. Step. Step.

And then her back hit the wall. He smiled at her slightly as he placed his palms on her temples, fingers spread over her ears slightly. She went to shove him away.

_What is he doing?_

_Oh crap oh crap oh crap oh crap._

_Don't just stand there! KILL HIM!_

_Mmmmm, Cajun. Soooo yummy…_

_Are we going to die now? Because I really don't wanna di-._

All the voices in Rogue's head abruptly cut off, the unexpected lack of noise made her freeze as she went to push him away.

There was nothing. Not a mumble. Not a whisper

Emptiness.

She hadn't felt so free in years.

She hadn't felt so vulnerable.

All that was left was a buzzing ringing through her ears, making her temples throb lightly and painfully. The crowd of people replaced by an angry swarm of bees.

"What did ya just do?"

"Did it work?"

"That depends. _What were ya trying to do_?"

He took his calloused hands away, the buzzing noise immediately leaving with them, but didn't step back, trapping her in between himself and the wall. The psyches instantly returned, a tiny shadow of they had been before but quickly gaining volume. Gambit examined his hands with a look of satisfaction.

"Did y' know dat dere's energy in everyt'ing, chère?" He said instead of answering her question, keeping his eyes on his hands, "everyt'ing dat consists of molecules, an' even t'ings dat don', like t'oughts an' emotions, 'ave dormant energy stored in dem. All y' gotta do is upset it une peu, give de energy movement, an' stuff will explode wit' de power dat it 'ad all along."

Rogue turned her head slightly with a wrinkled nose, all too conscious of the fact that he was much too far into her comfort zone.

"So that's what ya can do? 'Upset' the energy in things and make it explode? That still doesn't explain what ya just did to my head."

Gambit lowered his hands, keeping his gaze down even as he smiled at her, flashing his white teeth in a charming smile.

"Y' absorbed y' purple-'aired ami yesterday, non? Betsy? De psychic?" she opened her mouth to ask him how he even knew Betsy's name, but he continued before she could get in a word, "Oui, dat's what I t'ought. An' what did y' notice when y' tried to use 'er powers on me? Did y' run into mon 'andy petite static shield?"

He paused, and Rogue realized that after a moment that he was actually waiting for her to answer.

"Ya, Ah seem to remember something of the sort. Like static from an old dial radio in between stations. But-"

"Oui, dat's about right." He interrupted her, "Dat, chère, was dere 'cause of de energy. I generate kinetic energy unconsciously, all de time, an' fo' une reason ou de ot'er, it gives mon mind un shield from telepat's."

"So, this theory of yours…?" Rogue prodded gently.

"Well, I got deux t'eories, actually. T'eory number une-," He grabbed Rogue's covered hand with both of his, slowly peeling off the glove so to wrap one of his bare hands around hers. She couldn't help but flinch at the contact, "- is dat I'm generating energy faster den y' can absorb, makin' our mutations cancel each ot'er out. Et deux," he raised the hand for apparent inspection, looking at it as if it were incredibly interesting, "Is dat de static shield around mon mind is some'ow…" He gently stroked the smooth skin exposed to him, "…spread around t'roughout mon entire body. Peut-être, for de same reason de static protects me from telepaths, it protects me from touch-based powers as well. Namely yours."

Rogue swallowed heavily as he pressed his nose into her palm, inhaling deeply and keeping it there with a pleasant smile on his lips. That was… kind of endearing.

But creepy! Very creepy.

_Why is he smelling her?_

_Hey, it's like you Logan! _

_I __**do not **__go around____smelling random people. Not on purpose anyways._

_So. Sexy._

_I'm surrounded by idiots._

_I'm surrounded by puppies!_

_Wait, what? No you're not. Unless you count Logan._

_I'm going to pretend I didn't just hear that._

_I had a puppy once. I drank it's blood._

… _I pray you're joking._

Rogue bit her lip (maybe bit back a small laugh, too).

"And the voices?" she asked quietly, "How does that explain how ya made them go away?"

Gambit lowered her hand, eyes still trained on it as charming grin spreading across his face.

"It's like I said, chère. T'oughts an' emotions 'ave energy too. All I gotta do is charge de potential energy in y'mind an' it makes anyt'ing dat shouldn't be dere go away, temporarily at least, like pushin' out un unwelcome telepath. Apparently yo' 'voices' are quite a bit like telepat's."

"Charge thepotential energy in my_ mind?_" Rogue repeated in disbelief as she pressed herself closer to the wall, "But… wouldn't that make my mind _explode_?"

"No' unless y' mind's made o' metal o' plastic."

Rogue's brow furrowed as Gambit risked a glance at her face, only to quickly look down again when they met eyes. She couldn't remember, why was he doing that again? She recalled being angry about his eyes… something that had infuriated Sabretooth's psyche to no end.

_Damn pretty boy needs to die. DIE I SAY! DDDDIIIIEEEE!_

Rogue quickly cleared her throat.

"Metal or plastic? So, what? You can't make living tissue explode?"

"Or t'ings dat were at one point alive, or anyt'ing dat came from un living t'ing. Basically anyt'ing organic refuses t' go boom. Which is why," he kicked the wall next to her knee, a little bitterly, "Dis God-forsaken room's made o' wood. Ot'erwise I'd already be 'alfway t' N'awlins by now."

_Fascinating._ _I wonder how long it has been since his powers first manifested. A mutant ability such as that has infinite possibilities. Energy manipulators could do almost anything, if allowed enough practice and time for the mutation to develop._

_Yes… infinite possibilities…that's all fine and dandy, really, but right now his power is pretty useless for us. He can't charge wood? That just means we're __**still**__ stuck here._

_ hot…_

_Tabitha! Give it a rest, we get that you have no self control when you see something that looks remotely male._

_You know, she might have a point… he __**is **__kind of… good-looking._

_NO KITTY! NOT YOU TOO!_

_Hey, I'm not obsessing over it or anything. Just stating a fact._

_Well, stop stating facts, we're distracting Rogue. Were you not paying attention? He can __**touch **__her. What if he tries something?_

_Then Rogue will kick his ass into next week and we'll all happily skip off into the sunset._

_I'm more of a sunrise kind of person._

_I really don't give half a rat's ass._

Rogue leaned her head back against the wall, brow furrowed as the voices gained volume.

"What about you?" Gambit asked abruptly. Rogue raised a sceptic eyebrow at the sudden question, eyes still on the ceiling.

"Ah don't know. What _about_ me?"

Gambit chuckled lightly.

"What about y' mutation?"

"As in ya don't already know? Which reminds me, how the hell do ya know so much about me and my friends?"

He chuckled at her obvious suspicion, rubbing small circles on the back of her hand, which was still in his grasp, with his thumb.

"Chère, when Gambit does a job, Gambit don' leave it 'alf done. I did mon research, talked t' some people. What's dat sayin'? Knowledge is power?" He smiled and brought up her hand to lay a small kiss on it, "Den je suis très powerful."

Rogue snorted, snapping her hand out of his grasp before his lips could touch it with a sharp tug. He kept his eyes on it even as she drew it to her chest. Though he might not have been staring at the hand, per se.

"Ah think you're confusing information with knowledge." She said matter-of-factly, "There's a difference, ya know. Like you can be well-informed, but still be a complete idiot."

_You think she's referring to Bobby?_

_Hey!_

_I hope so._

"I like t' t'ink I'm not an idiot. I mean, 'ow could I be, after lastin' dis long?"

Rogue wondered what he meant by that, but kept held her tongue.

"An' if y' wonderin' 'ow much I know 'bout y', chère, I know 'bout de absorbin' o' powers t'rough skin-t'-skin contact, de knockin' people out, de not bein' able t' control y' powers, an' now I know dat de people y' absorb take up residence in y' 'ead,. I know y' go to de Xavier's Institute for Gifted youngsters, 'ave f' trios years, an' I took de liberty of lookin' into as much o' de 'istory o' de Institute as I could as well as de members. But ot'er den dat." He grinned as he leaned forward slightly, "I don't know much about de mysterious Rogue." He cocked his head to as if in scrutinization, "Dough I'm startin' t' t'ink y' a little crazy." He added with a small smile at Rogue's offended expression.

"Hey!" Rogue snapped, "The psyches aren't usually not this… active. But Ah am _not_ crazy."

"How do y' know?" Gambit asked lightly, leaning towards her a little bit, "Did nine out of the ten voices in your head tell you you're sane?"

She growled lowly, earning a small chuckle from him.

"Ya," she hissed, "And the tenth one is trying to convince me to violently murder you."

_Murder him? Who would want to murder him?_

_Me._

_Logan, you don't count._

_Why don't I count? If I was there he'd be a Cajun-kabob by now._

_Psh, you're just saying that 'cause he was cuddlin' Rogue._

_Don't remind me._

_Hey, you guys wanna know what __**I**__ wanna do to him?_

_**No.**_

_Well, first…_

_Tabby, we said no._

… _I wanna grab his collar and slam him into the wall like Rogue did yesterday, except instead of trying to kill him I'll…_

Rogue inadvertently let out a squeak, aggression instantly dropping from her face as it was replaced with a look of utter mortification. She slapped her hands over her ears as if that would help block out the words.

"Tabby!" she said in a slightly shrill voice, "Ah really don't want to hear that!"

_But he's sooooooo hot. The world deserves to know what to do with him._

"Ah don't care," Rogue groaned, "Just stop telling me about it. And if you say the word hot one more time I swear to God Ah'll-"

"Uh… chère?"

There was a moment of silence as Gambit stared at Rogue for a moment before bursting out laughing. Rogue blushed deeply as she realized she'd been speaking out loud, telling a voice in her head to shut up… right in front of him. She wasn't doing a very good job of helping her 'I'm not crazy' case. If she even had a case left.

"Mon Dieu," he chuckled as he looked at her scarlet face, "Somet'ing tell me y' no' exactly tellin' me de truth."

Rogue cleared her throat awkwardly, continuing to avoid his gaze.

"Ah sort of am. There _are_ one or two who are telling me to…" she paused, apparently listening, "… rip ya open and feast on your innards… but there's also a lot of… uh… teenage girls in my head."

Gambit smiled, placing a hand on the wall at either side of her face. She held her breath as he leaned forward slightly more, wishing she could just fall back through the wall.

"Vraiment?" he asked in a low, husky voice, "Et are dese teenage girls rat'er 'fond' o' me?"

_Must. Have. Cajun._

_Oh, he's good._

_Kiss him! Kiss him! Kiss him!_

_NO DON'T DO THAT!_

_!_

Rogue blushed a little deeper as these general opinions continued, quickly shoving Gambit away from her.

"Y-you could say that," she squeaked. He chuckled, probably at her mortified expression. She quickly cleared her throat so to be positive her voice was steady, "Do me a favour, would you, and if Ah start to flirt with you without any apparent reason, slap me across the face…"

_NO DON'T DO THAT! If I get the chance to actually DO SOMETHING I am so going to-_

"-Hard."

There was a moment of silence as Gambit's smile faded and Rogue continued to blush at her psyche's new topic of conversation. His brow furrowed as he studied her face.

"Y' 'ave absolutely non control, do y'?"

The blush almost disappeared all at once, only a small blossoming of pink on her otherwise ivory cheeks. She ducked her head slightly, auburn and white curls falling into her face like a thick curtain.

"Ah- Ah guess not." She mumbled, obviously stung by the reminder. Gambit cocked his head to the side in confusion.

"I wonder why Selene wants y' so badly. 'er Inner Circle only 'as people dat are masters at killin', but even dey need to 'ave a solid control on der power. Dieu, I bet y' never even killed anyone. An' yet she seems so… fixated wit' y'."

Rogue shrugged, face remaining covered.

"Wither didn't have control over his power when he was at school."

"Oui, mais Wit'er's powers are remarkably simple an' easy t' figure out, even f' a weaker telepat' like Selene. 'e only didn' 'ave control 'cause 'e came t' y' school after all de skilled telepat's died." Rogue raised her eyebrows. Just how good were his 'resources'? "Y', on de ot'er 'and," He continued, looked her over thoughtfully, "De great Charles Xavier couldn't even 'elp."

She crossed her arms over her chest bowed her head lower. She did _not _need to be reminded about her… misfortune.

"Gee, thanks." She growled lowly, clenching her bare hand into a fist. "Ah really appreciate the kind words."

"No' so good at kind words," he replied calmly, "can I interest y' in a sarcastic comment?"

Rogue rolled her eyes.

"Ah'll pass, thanks," she mumbled, glancing up at Gambit through the strands of white hair with distaste, "Do you have any of your 'theories' as to why Selene would want me in her little cult?"

He continued to study her, half-smirk lingering around his lips.

"Well, t' be 'onest, I don' know why she needs anot'er absorber anyways. Senyaka-," he noticed at her confused expression, "-de one wit' de upper body armour- absorbs de energy o' ot'ers to enhance 'is own strength an' energy an' such. Den we got Selene 'erself. De Inner Circle don' need anot'er one."

Rogue lifted her head up, a frown gracing her features.

"Selene's… an absorber?"

Gambit nodded bleakly.

"Oui. Among ot'er t'ings"

"What kind of 'other things'?"

He tapped his lip in a mock thoughtful expression, though his eyes were genuinely grim as he looked at the ceiling.

"Well, she absorbs pure life force, turnin' people t' dust, an' I t'ink dat makes 'er live longer den most people. An' den dere's en'anced stamina, speed, strengt', reflexes, endurance, etcetera. She's a pretty weak telepat', but she's real good wit' telekinesis, et she's got some kind o' shadow manipulation thing that's a little unnerving, un slight healin' factor, an' I t'ink I saw her make fire une time."

Rogue raised her eyebrows.

"Oh, is that all?"

Gambit shrugged.

"Isn't dat enough?"

Rogue frowned at him. Yes, it was enough. It was more than enough. In fact, it was a little horrifying knowing that Selene had that much power at her disposal. Why was it the people with all the power either didn't want it or were completely insane? Why is it the only one who can actually do good with a lot of power always ended up with none? Well, with the exception of the Professor, of course. But a great deal of good it did him in the end, eh? Ripped to shreds by his star pupil.

"What does Selene even _want_? Ah mean, she can't actually think she's going to become _immortal_, right?"

Gambit did nothing, just regarded her sadly.

"_Right?_" even to Rogue's ears, she sounded borderline hysterical. Selene was clearly mentally unstable, whatever plan her twisted mind had decided would achieve this- this _Goddesshood _couldn't be good.

"Well, actually chère… she's got a 'ole plan devised already…an' she can do it."

Rogue let out a small humourless chuckle that sounded more like a sob, even to her ears.

"Wait, are ya tellin' me that she's _not insane?_"

Gambit shook his head, cruelly serious.

"Oh, non. She's definitely insane. I'm jus' sayin' dat when she says dat she's gonna be immortal, she can actually do it. She'll 'ave t' go t' some extremes," he made the motion of wringing a neck, "But she can do it."

Rogue stared at Gambit's hands for a long moment. She could do it? But... that wasn't possible. Immortality just didn't happen in real life. Well, normally neither did people getting super powers via mutation. But there were _scientific_ reasons for that. Mr. McCoy had taught them all about it back at the Institute...

Gambit's hands were still in the position of wringing a neck. Rogue stared at them for a moment longer before it finally clicked.

"You mean… she wants to become a 'deity' by _sacrificing_ people?"

Gambit still wouldn't look Rogue in the eye as he smiled sadly.

"Well, I assume dat's what she's using all o' de mutants fo'"

Rogue swallowed hard.

"She's rounding up mutants?" Rogue asked in a whisper. She thought about the Institute, what Wanda had said yesterday. '_You_ wouldn't have their blood on your hands'…Which meant… Oh God. Oh dear God.

Gambit nodded, though he hardly needed to confirm it.

"Oui, f' mont's now. I'd suspect she's got quite de collection after all dis time."

_Underground lava tubes, _Amara's voice whispered softly, _The perfect prison. Naturally fortified walls, a labyrinth to go through if you even manage to get out of your cell, usually only one pre-existing exit, no way to blow out without danger of creating a new lava flow..._

Rogue started hyperventilating as tears welled up in her eyes, blurring the sight of Gambit in front of her. The X-Men, the students. All of those young mutants, some of the most powerful in the world, all conveniently in the exact same place… She squeezed her eyes shut and covered them with her hands, slowly shaking her head in denial.

No. No. No. No. No. No. No!

She felt the psyches swarm around her mind in concern, whispering words of comfort, occasionally attempting to embrace her in their imaginary arms. One of her teachers, Mr. Wagner, was the first to touch her consciousness, speaking in soothing German. His voice echoed over the other sounds, sounding almost as if the _real _Nightcrawler was there beside her.

_Tiefer Atem, Sachlich. Ve kann unsere Selbst gegen zese gemeine Leute halten._

Nightcrawler's psyche faded, a new one embracing her in his absense.

_Ya, and with your disappearance, we'll be on high alert._

_I'm sure everyone is already returning to New York, and then Wolverine will be able to protect them and we'll have a better defence system, too._

_Even __**I **__wouldn't be able to breach the X-Men headquarters when it is at high alert._

_Like, they're right, Rogue. And if push comes to shove, then we've got the escape tunnels and all those drills Logan made us do in, like, the middle of the night._

_We'll be alright, kid. Just concentrate on getting yourself out of there._

_We have the powerful mutants in high numbers; defence will not be an issue._

_Be calm, my friend. Anxiety will help no one._

Sooraya's psyche snapped away like a rubber band as Rogue felt a hand grip her shoulder firmly.

"Hey, chère. Chère!" Something was shaking her shoulder roughly, "Snap out o' it! Y' startin' t' freak me out."

Rogue blinked a few times as Gambit's face came back into focus, her brow creasing as her breathing slowed to a normal pace.

"What?"

He frowned at her; confusion and concern written clearly on his features as he captured her gaze with his own captivating red eyes.

"Y'… Y' just comforted y'self in t'ird person in seven different accents… and I t'ink in German."

Rogue stared at him for a moment.

"Ah… Ah did?"

Gambit frowned, reaching out and pressing the back of his hand to her forehead as if to check for a temperature. Though his skin was so warm she was sure it just felt cool to him anyways.

"Y' okay chère? Maybe y' should lie down o' somet'ing."

"Ah'm fine." She snapped, pushing his hand away impatiently, "It's just a bit of psyche trouble. Nothing Ah can't handle."

His concern fell away into something akin to amusement and… fondness. They locked eyes and Rogue froze under his gaze as she took them in fully.

His irises were a shining deep crimson. Like the blood that beads up from a wound just received, bright and shining, yet completely opaque. They were surrounded by a thin ring of deep maroon that seemed to lightly branch in and fleck the red, like the blood as it begins to dry around the edges. They seemed to glow with their own light in their nests of black.

Past those, his sclera, the part that was either a clear white or a bloodshot pink in 'normal' people, was a deep black, with no breaks or fading or veins visible. Just blackness. But not empty, somehow not that. But comforting, like hiding underneath a blanket as a child. Warm darkness.

They were beautiful.

Rogue cocked her head to the side, tearing her gaze away from his eyes to study the rest of his face. She heard several teenage girls in her mind swoon at the sight. She scolded them mentally.

_Enemy. _She reminded them, and maybe herself as well, _En-e-my. _Her gaze inadvertently landed on his eyes again.

Mmm... It was like being drugged all over again, without the aching headache.

_Words Rogue, _Rahne's voice whispered, Scottish accent heavy.

Rogue slowly closed her eyes, her mind clearing slightly from the haze his eyes seemed to cause.

"So…" He started uncertainly watching her as if he expected her to start speaking in German again, "I have come to quatre conclusions. Une: dere's a good chance y' gonna kill me while we're 'ere. Deux: despite dis, tu est très belle," Rogue growled lowly, which Gambit promptly ignored, "Trios: It's in our best interest to get de 'ell out o' 'ere. An' quatre: I do believe we can 'elp each ot'er reach dis mutual interest."

He paused, and Rogue could practically _feel _his smirk as he waited for a response from her.

"And how, prey tell, are we going to do that for each other?" She mumbled quietly, leaning her head back against the wall.

"Well, y' already 'elped me. De only reason I'm still alive right now is dat Selene t'inks y' gonna want me as y' playt'ing after y' join de Inner Circle. An' as no' keen I am t' be un playt'ing an' y' are to be in de Inner Circle, I'll stay alive as long as _y'_ don' want me dead," He smiled a little weakly, "An' keepin' me alive is a good way t' 'elp me."

Rogue raised her eyebrows, cracking one green eye open to look at him.

"Plaything?"

He shrugged as if it were no big deal, brushing the hair out of his eyes absently.

"Oui. Some o' de Inner Circle 'ave dem."

Rogue wrinkled her nose slightly at the suggestion. Her _plaything?_ That was just… wrong. On so many levels.

"And how are _you_ supposed to help _me_?"

Gambit grinned widely.

"I know stuff. Stuff dat could be quite valuable t' 'elp us get out o' 'ere."

Rogue snorted. She seriously doubted that Selene would have locked the two of them in a room if he knew enough to actually be _helpful. _

"Oh, ya? Like what?"

"Well," he began with a smirk, his eyes scanning the ceiling, "I know dat de only way out o' de tunnel system is teleportation, mais dere are air vents big enough f' a person t' climb through. I know each o' de Inner Circle members by name an' power. I know some o' dere weaknesses. I know dat Selene is far too confident in keepin' us prisoner, an' dat's gonna leave us some openings. I know where de ot'er prisoners are bein' 'eld," He raised an eyebrow at her, "Dat sound like somet'ing y'd wanna know?"

Rogue bit her lip. It _was_ something she'd want to know. But still…

"And how do ya know these things?"

"Simple," Gambit responded a little dryly, "Selene underestimates me. She t'inks I'm jus' some mindless mercenary. Mais I paid attention. She, on de ot'er 'and, never paid much attention t' _moi_, so I went scoutin'. An' I came t' a conclusion..."

He trailed off, watching for Rogue's reaction. She lifted her head off of the wall, looking at his eyebrows to avoid eye contact.

"And this conclusion was…?"

He smiled weakly

"Dat if y' can absorb Blink, we can get de bot' of us et de ot'er prisoners out o' 'ere wit'out a catch."

"And how do ya presume Ah'll absorb Blink?"

"Simple, in a few days, pretend to be finished contemplating it, Selene'll call y' in front o' 'er Inner Circle, an' grab Blink. Teleport back 'ere, I tell y' where de prisoners are, teleport dere wit' me, den we get out o' 'ere."

"Why can't ya just tell me where they are now?"

Gambit gave her a mock look of 'isn't it obvious', his ever-present smirk still strong.

"'Cause den y' might leave me be'ind."

Rogue studied his face, searching it for deception or even guilt. Nothing. Either he was sincere or had one hell of a poker face. She had to admit, her chances of escape were reasonably better with his help, and hadn't Logan taught her about power in numbers?

_I hate it when my own words are used against me. I'd rather see him left here to rot._

"Deal."

**(()) (()) (()) (()) (()) (()) (()) (())**

Storm, or Ms. Monroe as she was referred to when working as Headmistress of Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters, looked disapprovingly at the two boys seated before her with her shockingly blue eyes.

The one on the left was, unsurprisingly, John Allerdyce, flicking his ever-present lighter on and off rather gloomily as he hunched over it, eyes trained on the tiny flame as it disappeared and reappeared over and over.

The other was Ben Hammil, who, in contrast, was sitting board straight in his seat. His arms were crossed tightly over his chest and a look of outrage was on his face at the fact that _he_ had been calledto the headmistress's office. The flames that constantly engulfed his entire body seemed to be glowing brighter in his anger, and Storm could have sworn she could smell his clothing burning slightly, something that only happened when Ben was feeling particularly irritable.

She folded her hands in front of her, taking a deep breath for what she knew was going to be a pointless scolding.

"I'm very disappointed in you, boys." She said with as much authority as she could muster. The two of them immediately jumped onto the defensive.

"But Ms. Monroe! It's not like I _planned _this!-"

"You can't tell me you don't think the bloke deserved it!-"

"-I didn't even give him _permission _to use my fire! He just took it without asking!-"

"-Weren't you there? It was the greatest act of justice I've ever seen!"

Storm held up a hand, both of the boys instantly quieting at the gesture.

"You set Bobby on _**fire**_, John. That isn't the type of behaviour we allow here."

John pouted and hunched further into his chair.

"You didn't see it, Ms. Monroe, he was _flirting_, his girlfriend is missing and he doesn't even _care._ He's such a fu-…reaking wally _wowser_ _**sook**_!"

Ben glared at John, who seemed completely oblivious to it as he fumed.

"As satisfying as it was to see Drake on fire," Ben growled, "Next time, use your _own,_ don't take it from me and drag me down with you!"

"Pssht, I can't believe you're complaining about this, Hammil. It was such a beautiful moment. Full of… people I don't like on fire…"

"That's quite enough John," Storm snapped, placing her hands on her hips as she scowled down at him, "I'm going to let you off with a warning this one time, mostly because I'm sure Wolverine is already planning on giving _you_ detention, John," He visibly winced at the thought, "And I don't believe you should be punished for this, Ben. But if this ever happens again, I promise you, the punishment will be _severe_. You may go."

The boys both nodded, one triumphantly and one a little gloomily, and turned to leave.

"And John?"

The firebug looked back over his shoulder, looking a little worried.

"Yes Ms. Monroe?"

She gave him a small sad smile.

"Keep that lighter close. You don't know when you'll need it."

John nodded once then turned to leave, closing the door silently behind him.

As soon as he was out of sight, Storm let out a great sigh that she had been holding back as she leaned onto her desk for support. Her short snowy white hair contrasted shockingly with her dark cocoa-coloured skin as she rubbed her face, as if she could massage the stress from her mind.

She had come all the way down to New Orleans, taking some of the older students with her as a sort of field trip, because an old friend of hers had given her a call about a young mutant that he knew who was out of control and yet unwilling to come to Xavier's. So she came herself, partially to get away from all the stress of running an Institute while also leading the X-men, and partially because she personally owed this friend her life, only to find that he had disappeared completely.

She had returned to the old headquarters of the Thieves Guild, only to find her old companions and coworkers gone without a trace. The promise she had made to the students kept her there, though her instincts were screaming for her to leave from the moment she had found the building empty.

And now one of her students was missing. Kidnapped by a local, if Cessily's account was correct. A local that threw exploding pink cards and wore an old trench coat. A strangely familiar description.

She couldn't help feel as if she'd failed. Like the Professor had trusted her with a great responsibility and she had messed it up. She glanced at the portrait that was hanging on the wall of the Victorian-style room. If there was ever a time she needed the cool thinking and reassuring words of the Professor, it was right then.

There was a light knock on her door.

"Come in." she called out in a calm voice that she was surprised she had been able to muster.

The door cracked open slightly, a pretty girl with bright red tattoo-like markings covering her tan skin poking her head into the room in an almost bored way.

"Yes, Alani," Storm tried to say as kindly as possible, "What is it?"

Alani opened the door a little wider, stepping into the room and sending a smile towards Storm.

"Jessie says that Wolverine's going to be here in a minute and that Bobby should hide." She said simply, twisting a brunette lock of hair around her finger idly as she watched Storm's calm face cave slightly into dread before smoothing back into a controlled look. Storm nodded solemnly, glancing out the grand window of her office to watch the corner that Logan was sure to be whipping around any second now. Jessie Vale, a young precognitive student, had never been wrong about this kind of thing before.

"Thank you, Alani," she said without shifting her eyes, "You'd better go warn Bobby."

**I feel so evil about setting Bobby on fire, but mostly because I didn't record it word for word. What, did you think I was remorseful about it? Pssht. That was just something that came to me while I was glaring at my enemies and wishing I could set them on fire. And then I realized there **_**is**_** someone I don't like that I could do this to.**

**That thing with puppy blood was basically something my friend said one day and I decided to include it. But my friend was just joking. Hopefully. I wouldn't put it past her.**

**I don't know German. **

**I have one Australian friend from Perth, but the only slang I can seem to get from him is 'footpath', 'rubbish', 'ring', 'jumper', and 'ice pole'. **

**Next chapter there will be plenty of Wolverine investigations and a Romy moment involving innuendo. YAH!**

**Review, because if you don't I will find and train some killer otters that come from an island on the back of a turtle in a bubble underwater to find you, tie you to a chair, and incessantly sing 'It's a small world after all' as they eat all the food in your fridge.**

**As you have seen in this chapter, flames are for imagining and/or writing about setting characters/real people you don't like on fire. Not reviews.**


	9. Search

**Chapter 9: Search.**

**I don't own anything.**

**While doing the 'sniffing' thing with Logan, I was sort of thinking of how they did it in Wolverine and the X-men, with the weird ghost-things. If it gets confusing, just remember that.**

**I am not a chemist, and I'm pretty clueless about explosives.**

**I'M THINKING ABOUT PUTTING DEADPOOL IN THIS! My only issues are that a) He'd be a long-term character and I don't know if I can handle that much awesome.**

**Tell me what you think in a review.**

**(())(())(())()(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())**

Why do people seem to think it was strange for someone to watch security cameras in their free time? I mean, if you have nothing better to do, or if it was just more convenient, then there wasn't anything wrong with it, right? And yet everyone keeps going on and on about how it's strange and stalker-ish and that it makes them uncomfortable to be watched without their knowledge.

Laura Kinney didn't understand why they were so against it. She needed to keep an eye on several people in the same building, and different parts of the building, at once. Obviously the pre-existing security camera system was the best way to do it.

And it wasn't like no good could come from it. If she'd been at the mansion during the Stryker fiasco, watching these very same cameras, then it may have been avoided. And the countless anti-mutant attacks that had occurred after that? Also could have been avoided, or at least greatly toned down.

Not to mention how it had been _her _who had first realized that the students were missing that morning, thanks to her scrutinization of the cameras. And it was _her _who had dragged them back to the Institute and to the Medical Facility so they could receive the care they needed.

Unfortunately, it was also _her _who had overlooked the possibility that maybe Rogue had gone out as well, but that hadn't been because of the security camera watching, more like despite of it.

She just hadn't expected Rogue to leave. No one had. For months, she had been staying in her room most all the time, only coming out for school, meals, and Danger Room sessions. Her friends had been trying to convince her to go out for months, but no one ever actually expected her to go with it.

Apparently she'd chosen a bad night. Or the mystery attacker had gotten close enough to the mansion to know when she was going out last minute, as Noriko did tell them that it was a last-minute decision. As in randomly climbed out of the window when they were halfway to the ground last-minute.

Laura glanced at the screen showing the halls of the dormitories, full of children scrambling to get to the one place where they were sure the Wolverine wouldn't run into them, their rooms, horrified of his wrath. She found it amusing. As far as she could tell, Logan was much too soft with the children. He was all about yelling at them and giving them extra training and such, but as much as he liked to wave around those shiny claws of his, he'd never use them on a student.

Apparently he had accidentally once. Apparently that student was Rogue.

Her gaze shifted to the main hallway, where a girl of Asian origin was running around in panic, telling everyone in earshot something that made them instantly turn and run towards the dorms. Within seconds the entryway was cleared, leaving the girl alone for a second, pausing mid-step with a hand up to her forehead. She tensed quickly, and Laura could practically hear her fearful squeak as she turned and sprinted down the hallway after the others.

That would be Jessica Vale, the always over-reacting short-term precog. How kind of her to let Laura know that Logan was about to arrive.

Her dark green eyes turned to the screen with an image of the front gate, pressing the button to open it just in time for someone on a motorcycle zip through.

Wolverine.

Laura got to her feet. Everyone was hiding. That just left her to be his welcoming committee.

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Bobby walked out of the Med Bay, which was on the main floor in this mansion as the New Orleans branch didn't have any of the sub-levels that the more high-tech and permanent mansion in Westchester did. He was currently wearing a pair of school sweat pants and hoodie after his clothing had been charred beyond wear-ability earlier that day thanks to a certain insane fire bug.

The clothing part he could deal with, they hadn't even been nice cloths, his big issue was with something he was sure most guys would have laughed at him for being ticked about, were he to ever voice his annoyance.

His hair.

Yes, his hair. It had managed to practically burn off his head in the few moments of panic it took him to turn into his ice-form. It was now seared and uneven and even completely gone in some places. Josh had cleaned up his burned skin nicely, but couldn't do anything about the hair.

'_You'll just have to wait for it to grow back_' he'd said with that stupid little smirk on his face.

Bobby could swear, half the mansion was out to get him.

Next time he saw Pyro, he was icing him to the wall. All Bobby had been doing was chatting with Kitty, and it wasn't like there was any law against that.

He was walking close to the wall on his way to the kitchen, having had his breakfast oh-so-rudely interrupted. Noting the unusual empty state of the hallways, he walked a little more leisurely then he normally would have. There must have been something going on outside or in the rec-room, and he couldn't say he could complain about the quiet. It was something that rarely happened at the Institute. A large group of teenagers with superpowers were usually pretty noisy. Who would've guessed?

He paused when he was right beside the front door, cocking his head to the side to listen. Was it just his imagination, or did he just hear a motorcycle engine turn off? The only person who rode a motorcycle who was currently in New Orleans was Laura, and she only rode to follow Logan, probably because she was a creepy stalker clone. And considering Logan wasn't even there, that didn't leave a lot of people it could be.

There was no way the feral mutant had already arrived, considering he'd been riding toNew York for almost twelve hours, which is a lot of distance for him, and they had only called him back three hours ago. There was no possible way he could have gone that fast on motorbi-

His thoughts were interrupted by the door slamming open, smacking him in the face with enough force to throw him off his feet.

He hit the hard tile floor with a loud thump, clutching at his face with both his hands as he yelled out an exclamation of pain.

Logan, who was now standing in the entryway, frowned down at Bobby, wrinkling his nose.

"Icicle? What the hell were you doin' behind the door?"

Bobby pulled his hands away from his face angrily, a heavy stream of blood pouring out from each nostril.

"_Walking,_" he snapped, reaching up and feeling his nose gingerly, wincing at the pressure, "I think you broke my nose."

Logan snorted, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

"Serves you right for standin' behind a door. That just wasn't smart." He frowned again as he looked at Bobby more carefully, "What's wrong with your hair?"

That just made Bobby curse loudly, getting to his feet and turning back the way he came, towards the Med Bay and leaving a lovely little trail of blood behind him.

"Huh," A voice called from the top of the stairs, "I never really pegged you as someone who hit students, Logan."

Logan turned and grimaced at the sight of Storm descending to meet him, Laura close behind her.

"As amusin' as that idea is, no, he walked into a door." He glanced at Laura, giving her a small nod of recognition before looking back to Storm, "Please tell me that it turned out to be nothin' and you already found her."

Storm shook her head sadly at the exact same moment as Laura said 'no'. Laura glanced over at the weather witch, looking annoyed if nothing else, before continuing alone.

"Rahne Sinclair has been scouting the last known area that Rogue was for about forty minutes now." Laura said officially, as if she was a soldier announcing her status to her commanding officer, "She is a good tracker and seemed quite adamant to volunteer."

Logan didn't even bother to tell her, again, to stop talking to him like he was her boss or something. It kind of freaked him out. Not only did she look enough like him to be his sister (or even his daughter), but she always had to act so _professional._ He couldn't really blame her for it, though, what with her upbringing, if you could even call it that. So instead he just nodded.

"'Ro, tell the kids that no one is leavin' school property until I say so. I'm hopin' this ain't serious, but just in case…"

Storm nodded in understanding. Before her little 'depression' period and after the Professor died, Rogue had had the uncanny tendency to disappear for a few days at a time without a trace to 'collect her thoughts'. Best case scenario was that the guy escaped, she felt stressed and didn't want to carry all of her friends home, then just left. No one really expected it, as it would be more like her to drag each one home individually. It was just the way Rogue was.

"I think they can manage that." Storm said calmly, folding her arms in front of her chest almost grimly.

Logan turned to leave, walking out of the door with his head held high.

"Good," he glanced over at Laura, "Come on, kid."

Storm followed them as they exited, stopping at the doorway to watch as Laura disappeared into a door off to the side while Logan mounted his bike, starting the engine. He glanced over to the exit of the garage just as Laura roared from the building on a bike of her own, zipping down the driveway at breakneck speeds. Logan followed after her, letting her take the lead. He was as good a tracker as any, but it saved time to just follow someone who already knew the way.

Storm sighed as she turned her back to the two of them, starting towards her office. This was going to be a long day, she could feel it.

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Laura came to a screeching halt, looking as if she very nearly toppled her whole bike over (though that was never going to happen as long as she was alive, with her riding experience) and sending a hefty glare at anyone who dared to look at her funny for apparently being a fourteen-some year old riding recklessly without any form of safety gear at all. Logan stopped next to her marginally less loudly.

Laura jabbed her thumb down towards the west end of the street as he stepped off his bike onto the concrete.

"They came from there," She said emotionlessly, "The attacker followed by rooftop."

Logan nodded, his eyes tracing the place she was pointing towards as he ignored her disconcerting face. The kids had been taking a direct route back to the mansion. Not the best idea, but considering they had been lugging dead weight, it was the obvious decision for short-sighted teenagers to make.

Laura stood perfectly straight and still as he made his way down the street, stiffing for the trail and finding it easily. The people on the streets walked a little faster, skirting around the apparently insane man and sending nervous glances over their shoulders as they went.

He looked over at his apparently blank companion again. She stared calmly back.

"You waitin' for somethin', kid?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.

Laura lifted her chin a little higher.

"Awaiting orders." She said simply, her eyes' alert yet blank gaze beginning to unnerve him slightly. Logan cursed under his breath. Again with the 'awaiting orders' thing. He'd thought they'd gotten past that.

"Uh…" he glanced down the street, looking for something to keep her busy, "Go find Rahne. See what she found."

Laura nodded once then turned and walked down the street, apparently following Rahne's scent. On a better day, Logan probably would have chuckled at the intense look on Laura's face as she briskly made her way down the street. But today wasn't one of Logan's better days.

He inhaled deeply through his nose, his enhanced sense of smell picking apart the complex smells that it absorbed and turning them into scenes that had occurred in that very place since the last rainfall, when everything had been washed away, playing in his mind's eye.

He could practically see the ten of them making their way down that street, four of them unconscious and five of them carrying, golden boy's more-then-usual weight being shared between Jet-ass and Pretty boy.

Whatshername, the one that was the latest psychic that the Institute had acquired, had been taking the crazy one with the time-bombs, the metal girl had had the pyro, and the Sparky girl had carried Ashes. Rogue had been leading the group, no one on her shoulders.

Well, that was to be expected. Knowing Rogue, she had probably pulled the others' asses out of the fire, and had probably been pissed. Most people didn't know it, but she had one hell of a temper on her, as he'd gotten to see during her training sessions. She was good at holding it in, but when she let loose, she went _insane_.

The group had paused… either because Jet-ass and Pretty boy had dropped Golden boy or because Golden boy had woken up and _then _been dropped. Either one would have been a fairly effective distraction for the whole group.

Which is why it made sense that that was the moment the attacker had showed up. Logan took a deep sniff, committing the person's scent to memory as he closed his eyes and tried to trace the man's, and it was definitely a man, movements and attacks.

He'd started with Psychic, Pretty boy, and Golden boy… so he'd obviously known that those four would have had the least amount of trouble taking him down. Psychic could have disabled him mentally, Pretty Boy could have just hit him with the telekinesis, and if golden boy had even laid a finger on him he could have stopped his heart.

Sparky had attacked first, Logan noticed with a frown, quickly, angrily, and powerfully judging by the scorch marks left behind. He'd have to work that out of her in the Danger Room. Dang temper of hers screwed her over. She attacked without thinking, and even managed to take out Jet-ass in the process, which distracted her enough to allow herself to be defeated. Though he supposed that the man that smelt of nicotine had had a hand in that, what with the little dance his scent seemed to be doing across the ground.

Metal hadn't really done much better. Heck, she would have been beaten sooner if it wasn't for her mutation. She was relying too heavily on the fact that she was pretty much invulnerable, using it as an excuse to attack recklessly and sloppily. Too bad, if she was more careful she could have won quickly and easily, but she'd instead allowed herself to be blown back by… some kind of explosive.

He ran his hand over the ash mark on the concrete, bringing his fingers to his nose to sniff it gently. Interesting. He didn't smell anything but burnt cardboard, and yet there had obviously been a fairly strong explosion, judging by the shape of the dark streak marks.

Mutant with explosive-related powers then. That certainly made things more… interesting. So it wasn't a Stryker-like or anti-mutant kidnapping this time. He'd guess Magneto's Brotherhood, but that had disbanded after Magneto had been cured. Maybe another mutant group? They weren't uncommon, it's just that most of them sucked. Maybe there was one forming that was a little more… organized.

Apparently Metal didn't get the 'organized' hint though, again throwing herself at Nicotine. Though she _had _managed to get him wrapped up, something had happened that made how relinquish her hold to just her hand around his neck, a threat of some sort? Probably.

They'd stood there, apparently talking for ages, until he hit her with something… electrical and knocked her out.

Logan concentrated that much harder as Nicotine turned towards Rogue, whom throughout the fight had been absorbing her unconscious friends. They'd spoken about something, standing still, and Logan could practically see their calculating stances, each trying to predict the first move of the other.

It had turned out to be Rogue to make the first move, using Pyro and Ashes' powers as a distraction so to get closer to him for hand-to-hand combat, something she was more skilled at thanks to the fact that he had trained her for it, her powers requiring her to get close anyways.

Rogue had pushed Nicotine into a dead-end alley, managing to pin him to the wall. *sniff* but he managed to push her away with another bomb…thing. They spared a bit, and the attacker had gotten his arms around her.

Then, for some reason, he had stumbled away from her. So she'd managed to injure him somehow. With her upper body, as her legs hadn't moved until she pushed away from him.

She'd turned and thrown some explosives, the Time-bomb's, as another distraction so she could tackle him to the ground.

Logan's feet followed the path they made as they had fought and rolled for the upper hand, Rogue eventually coming out on top. Logan's brow furrowed.

Wait…

Then she won. If she came out on top of that scuffle then she'd have been able to absorb him.

And yet she was still gone.

That was when Logan _really _started to worry.

"Logan!" His head shot up as his enhanced hearing heard Laura's voice call out over the sound of people on the street.

He was running without a second thought, turning one corner, then another following Laura's fresh trail more than the sound of her voice.

He was almost to the two girls when the smell hit him.

Human bodies. Dead, decaying human bodies.

Though there was not a single one in sight.

He made it the two of them, one in her wolf form whimpering at the smell and covering her nose with a russet paw and the other with a look if indifference on her face, with a hand covering his nose to try and block out some of the smell.

"A teleporter picked them up," Laura said simply, "I did a brief scout around the area. There are no nearby bodies. The scent came from wherever the teleporter came from."

He dropped his hand, fists clenching at the all-too familiar scent. His claws threatened to un-sheath, right there in front of all the humans.

Rogue'd been taken somewhere that was full of dead bodies. That was not a good thing.

Logan flipped his cellphone open as he glanced at the two girls.

"Take Rahne back to the Institute," He told Laura as he dialled Storm's personal number, "Pack. We're leaving. Today."

**I know, I'm mean. Promising a Romy moment then just giving you Logan and X-23 (who is kick-ass, by the way). It was going to just be a short thing at the end of this, I swear! But it kept getting longer and longer until I realized that by the time I was done it would be a whole new chapter. So it's actually mostly done and may be up sooner then you expect… one week, tops**

**But I shouldn't jinx it.**

**I'm feeling in a Chuck Norris kind of mood. So…**

**Chuck Norris' smile once brought a puppy back to life. Review and he will smile again.**

**Fire does not burn Chuck Norris, Chuck Norris burns fire. This, unfortunately, is only true for Chuck Norris and if my story was to come into contact with flames it would indeed burn and I will be forced to send Chuck Norris to roundhouse kick you. Keep the flames away from this story.**


	10. Sparring

**I saw X-men first class the day it came out (got a kick-ass cup at the theater, too. YA! Free cup) and I was right, as well as being super great, it will contradict some of my plans. So now this fanfic is disregarding that movie. Though I absolutely loved Azazel (though I keep pronouncing the name like Padazel). His fight scene was the best thing ever.**

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If anyone had told Rogue that being held captive by a madwoman would be boring, she wouldn't have believed them. She didn't know what situation would call for someone to tell her such a thing, but if it had ever happened she probably would have laughed at them for making such an absurd claim.

Of _course _being held captive would be exciting, she would have said, the threat of death constantly being held over your head? She was sure her heart would probably never stop pounding from the fear of it, from the adrenalin and the rush.

Well, if she _had _answered like that, she'd be eating her words now. It _was _boring. Apparently there was very little one could do when in a wooden box, even if your life was technically in danger. What was she supposed to do? Pray? Mr. Wagner was doing enough of that in the back of her mind for two.

Stressing over escape plans seemed rather counter-productive at the moment, as nerves were built that way, and nerves weren't good when running for your life. There was always glaring at the Cajun, but he had the annoying tendency to meet her gaze and grin, which in turn would make her thoughts all cloudy, which she really didn't need just then.

For the last few hours she'd been passing the time by repeating the information Gambit had told her about the Inner Circle in her mind over and over and over again to herself, so to be sure she'd completely memorized it, so that now it felt like it was playing in the background of her and her psyches' thoughts like a broken record.

Mortis. Chin-length black hair. Partially anorexic. Power to give person a heart attack via a death touch. Can't do much else. Isn't trained in hand-to-hand. Useless with distance weapons. Mostly just useless.

Senyaka. Armoured guy. Sadist. Can absorb bio-electrical energy via physical contact. Energy increases strength, endurance, and reflexes. Can also make excess life-force he drains to generate a pair of psionic whips made of bio-electric energy that can absorb life-force as well, making his absorption ability more long-ranged, as well as causing intense pain or paralysis and sear into flesh. Is bulky and has poor reflexes, also is not very bright.

Eli Bard. The one in the tux. Selene's pet. Blindly loyal to Selene. Super strength, speed, and healing. Poor foresight. Compulsive.

Blink. Pink girl. No personality. At all. Teleporter, kills by teleporting different body parts to different places, generates pink javelin-like objects that can teleport people at a distance. Skilled fighter and gymnast, though not superhumanly so. Seemingly delayed reflexes for reasons unknown.

Wither. Asshole. Death touch. Gullible and poorly-trained. Wait, scratch that. He was trained by Wolverine, so he was well-trained. He just seems to have forgotten his training completely because he's an idiot. Let's add low intelligence to the list.

Selene. Immortal. Life-force stealer, turning people to dust in the process. Enhanced strength, speed, agility, stamina, reflexes, durability. Healing. Microkinetic, can move innominate objects on a molecular level as well as a much larger scale. Telekinetic. Pyrokinetic. Hypnosis. Telepathic cloaking. Can become living darkness. No known weaknesses.

And repeat. It was beginning to get a little tiresome. And depressing whenever she got to the last name on her list. She _knew _all of the information now. If she heard the names Mortis, Senyaka, Eli Bard, Blink, Wither, and Selene, one more time she was going to hit someone.

So that left her with having conversations with the voices in her head and staring at the walls. And this did very little to rouse her interest, as the psyches were currently discussing their favourite kinds of pie and the wall had failed to do anything interesting all day.

_Blueberry, man. That's the way to go!_

_Nuh uh! Have you ever had Pumkin pie topped with whipped cream and cinnamon? It's to die for!_

_Please, you all have it wrong; the only pie worth eating is meat pie! All the goodness of pie with the manliness of meat!_

_Aw man, now I feel like a woos for liking cherry pie._

_Rhubarb pie is far more scrumptious then all of your choices. All other pie is inferior!_

_I don't even know what, like, rhubarb is. I have to say that chocolate pie is, like, the best._

_Oooo, they make that?_

_Uh, ya, and it is, like, the greatest._

_I'm telling you, blueberry!_

'You know what I think?' Rogue snapped at her psyches mentally, 'I think you need to find something else to talk about, and that this conversation is stupid!

_But Ro-ogue…_

'No buts, just find something else to talk about.'

_Fine… _

_sooooo… chocolate pie. Sounds interesting._

Rogue buried her face in her hands, muffling her groan as she felt Gambit's curious eyes on her yet again. She lifted her head and sent him a glare, to which he grinned.

Her thoughts again became foggy.

Damn it.

She broke her gaze away and stared at the wall bitterly. It probably didn't help her predicament that they'd yet to be fed, several hours since they'd awoke, and though she had no judge of how much time had passed since her arrival, she was pretty sure she'd have been to the danger room by now, beating her frustrations out into holographic enemies.

She glanced over at Gambit again, wondering for an instant if it would help her to go over there and kick him in the face.

Tempting…

But she still felt kind of bad about the bruise he'd gotten the other day. It hadn't swollen all that much, but the dark purple that surrounded his eye wasn't very attractive. Not that it took away from the rest of his bod-

GAH! Rogue quickly looked away. Think gross thoughts, she told herself, think gross thoughts! Like… like Toad in his underwear! While kissing Magneto! Who was also in his underwear!

Ah, that did it.

But it still didn't help her 'nothing to do' predicament. She sighed and leaned her head back against the wall. What would Logan do in this situation?

_Cut the Cajun in half then escape while carrying his head as a prize._

Okay, rephrase. What would Logan do if he didn't have metal claws and wasn't bent on killing the allies that annoy him?

_Oh, no, I'd still kill the bastard._

…

So Logan's a bad example.

_Count to one thousand in every language you know. Starting with Japanese._

_I'll start for you. Ichi, ni, san, shi…_

_Ya, that's not going to happen._

_Try not to think about penguins!_

_Pinch yourself repeatedly._

_Beat Gambit up._

_Try to swallow your tongue._

_I'd suggest origami or something, but with the lack of paper…_

_Sam, go into your corner and think about what you just said._

_Wait…Sam go into the corner? What about the one who suggest swallowing your tongue?_

_Sam gets a corner? I WANT A CORNER!_

_That's beside the point. Why don't you try this great new thing called 'talking to your new friend'. I heard it makes time fly._

_But she'll be trying not to jump him the whole time with the images Tabby keeps sending her way._

_Beat him up._

_Eat him._

_Who said that? And why?_

Rogue stood up suddenly with a yell of frustration, making Gambit jump as she started passing back and forth in their cell, yelling random obscenities in several different languages. So much pent up energy, dripping off of her like sweat, making her fingers twitch and her neck tense as she paced.

Her walk slowly became a run, heart beginning to pound thickly in her ears as she raced back and forth and back and forth, slapping her hands against the wall each time she got to it, until finally, with a loud scream of 'Du arschgefickter Hurensohn!' she rammed her foot into the wall as hard as she could.

Rogue had probably known that this would hurt, a lot, when she did this, but chose to ignore her common sense for once. She was human, mutated human, yes, but still a human who sometimes did irrational things. Like kick a solid wall simply because she is restless.

She let out a yelp of pain as she jumped back, toe thoroughly stubbed as she hopped around on the other foot, probably looking like a complete fool in the process. She growled loudly, turning to kick the wall with her other foot, which, in general, did very little to help her problem.

But despite her two aching feet, she still pulled back her arm to strike the wall again, as if determined to take out all of her troubles on the hard, fragrant wood.

As she began to throw her hand foreword, two strong arms hooked around her waist, jerking her back from the wall so that her fist went through thin air. She kicked her legs out, growling wildly as she heard a chuckle behind her.

"Angry at de wall. Chère?" He said as he tightened his hold on her so that she was pressed up to his front. An unfortunately familiar position that came with the same psyche-fading buzz as before.

"Yes," she hissed as she tried to put some distance between them, "It's keeping me in the same room as you longer then Ah'd ever want to be in a lifetime."

"Aww, chère, y' so mean." He laughed in her ear, making involuntary shivers run up her spin. His hold loosened on her slightly, and she used the opportunity to push away, turning back to glare at him.

"No, Ah'm not. You're just a sissy." She growled, eyes flashing dangerously with a look that could kill.

"Y' know," he practically purred, his eyes flashing with a different expression entirely, "I can t'ink o' better ways t' work off dat frustration." He raised his eyebrows suggestively.

Unfortunately for Rogue, his reflexes were just as good while he was making perverted comments as any other time, and managed to catch the fist she sent flying towards his face.

He laughed as he caught her other fist as well.

"Ooo", he said with a smile, "We gonna play now?"

Rogue let out a snarl and kicked out her leg, only serving to give him enough momentum to turn her and shove her all the way across the cell as he laughed gleefully.

"Should I be gentle?" he asked cheekily as she spun to face him again, "From de looks o' it, dis be y' first time. Am I right?"

Rogue sent him a dirty look but didn't answer, instead taking a deep breath and closed her eyes, keeping herself aware of his presence. She shouldn't be attacking in anger; she'd been trained better than that. And by Logan, no less. Logan the goddamn Wolverine.

_Let me just start off by saying, Stripes, that I am thrilled you took my advice. And I'll end off by saying go for the groin._

She opened her eyes again, taking deep breaths until she no longer felt like kicking the wall until her foot bled. But she still felt restless, a twitch in her muscles that begged her to attack _something._

"Okay Cajun, let me just get a few things straight. One," she held up a finger, pointing its tip towards him slightly, "No more innuendo. Think you can handle that?"

He smirked at her slightly, cocking his head to the side as his eyes traced over her body.

"Peut-être," he said silkily, his eyes glowing as he crossed his arms in front of his chest, "depends on whet'er o' no' de ot'er t'ings dat apparently need straightenin' provide… opportunities. And dat I can start again after de straightening."

Rogue rolled her eyes, lifting up another finger. "Two," she stated, "Ah swear to God if Ah even _consider _the fact that you may be holding back, Ah will kick your ass so hard all of your relatives within three branches of your family tree will instantaneously wonder why their keisters are aching so much. And three-"

She held up a third finger, smiling wickedly at Gambit. He began to smile back, but was interrupted by her wrist swinging around and smacking him in the side of the face. As he recuperated from the hit, she swung her leg around and kicked him in the ribs, directly over the liver, then maintained her momentum by twisting her body around and putting the power behind a punch to the side of the face.

"-Try and keep up." She finished sweetly.

Gambit didn't seem to mind that he'd just added a few more bruises to his collection, and in a way that most would have found most unsporting. Au contraire, he was smiling as if he'd been pleasantly surprised.

"Dat was a Savate move, chère," he said merrily, "Didn't t'ink you'd know Savate."

"Why not?" she asked as she took up a defensive stance, one clenched fist almost touching her jaw and the other held in front of her slightly, "It's a fairly common style."

"Perhaps," he said as he easily blocked a fist aimed for his ribs, "Mais, Savate de Rue is less common," he jumped back from the kick aimed for his thigh, "Where'd you learn it?"

Rogue suddenly found herself blocking hits as he turned on her, a series of open-handed strikes and kicks keeping her on her toes. She grunted as he hooked his foot around her leg and smacked the back of her calf, sending her stumbling backwards. She gained her bearings quickly, spinning on her foot as she kicked out towards his ribs, the power generated by her rotation putting extra strength behind it.

"I picked it up," she stated, gently brushing her hair back from her face, fingers stroking her temple subconsciously, "I believe it was somewhere in Canada, a few years back. Gloves got ripped."

Gambit frowned at her as they circled each other slowly. Rogue caught a flash of pity in his eyes, and she pressed her lips together as she went at him again, sending a high kick towards his head which he easily evaded. He kicked out his leg like a piston, hitting her thigh just below her hip and sending her to the ground with a gasp of pain.

When she didn't get up right away, Gambit dropped his defensive stance, looking concerned.

"Chère?" he asked gently as he approached her.

Her foot swung out and hit him hard on the back of the knee, making it give out under him and force him to kneel. She grabbed his shirt, smiling coyly at him as she pulled his face up level with hers, then summersaulted over him onto her back. The foot placed on his hip took his weight, and used her momentum to help it kick him off behind her as she rolled.

He summersaulted onto his feet, pouting at her slightly as he steadied.

"I t'ought dis was a Savate fight, chère."

She grinned as she got to her feet as well, holding her fists out in front of her.

"Ah never said that." She responded sweetly before throwing herself at him, knee aimed for his chest.

The fight went on, and Rogue found they were a good match for sparring. Each blow she dealt, he either blocked easily or took it without showing any signs of pain, quickly responding with hits of his own. Back at the Institute the only person who really stood a chance against her was Logan, by which she meant that he could beat her so easily that it wasn't any fun. The other students were horrified of her powers like she would suck them dry at any given moment, and let's face it, holographic foes just didn't have the reflexes or reaction time of real people, nor did you get the amusing reactions and surprises that they would give _you_.

They both fought with the same ruthless energy, and after Gambit figured out that Rogue had 'picked up' more than a few fighting styles here and there he started to throw in some acrobatics to give him his own edge. Rogue laughed when he pushed off the wall to sail over her head and land behind her, trying to get her in a chock hold only to be thrown effortlessly over her shoulder.

As she grabbed his arm and tried to twist it into a joint lock, only to have him kick his leg back into her stomach, Rogue noted somewhere mundane that if she _had _been sparring with Gambit in the Danger Room they probably would have attracted a crowd by now. She decided that that would have been amusing to exit the Danger Room to find fleeing students, a renewed fear of the resident leech, as she blocked his elbow flying towards her face.

She sent a punch to his breastbone, only to have him turn his back to her and cause her to miss completely, take a few running bounds towards the wall. He jumped up, bending both of his legs against the wall before pushing off hard and flying directly towards her. She let out a grunt of pain as he rammed into her chest, sending them both crashing to the ground, but was laughing by the time he pinned her to the floor.

The state of his face only made her laugh harder, as by now it was bruised thoroughly, layers of purple and black and red spots that were still colouring, as well as a small trickle of blood from his nose. He looked amused as she turned her face to the side, so not to accidentally spit in his face this close as she cackled in a way that made her sides ache.

"What's so funny, chère?" he finally asked when she still hadn't let up for several moments.

She managed to calm herself enough to turn her face back to look at him, still snickering, and answer.

"Your face," she answered, cheeks rosy with her laughter, "Oh, God, Ah wish you could see yourself. I beat ya up pretty bad." She covered her mouth with her hand to try and stifle the fresh wave of laughter that hit her.

"Aw, chère," Gambit border-line cooed, stopping Rogue's laughter short and earing himself a withering glare, "Dat's de exact reason I was avoidin' y' face, 'cause it's so pretty and I didn' wanna 'urt it," He rested his bare hand, making Rogue flinch at the contact, over a spot on her cheek that felt particularly tender, and where she knew a bruise must be, "Mais, look. I did 'it y' une time," he ran his fingers over her skin, as if she were made of glass despite the fact that she had obviously proved otherwise.

Rogue was about to snap at him not to get all sappy on her, but her voice seemed to fail her as he cupped her cheek tenderly, and his eyes looked up into hers.

Foggy thoughts.

She will never be able to tell how long they laid there, staring, his weight uncomfortably crushing her into the hard ground as she found herself not caring in the slightest. The spell was only broken when he began to move forward, ever so slightly, lips parted…

That is, until the wall suddenly began to glow a blood red.

Rogue gasped loudly, violently shoving him off of her as she scrambled for the corner furthest from the glow. She wasn't afraid of the pending arrival of the Scarlet Witch. Au contraire; she was quite looking forward to it as she assumed it meant she was going to be fed. No, that definitely wasn't why her heart was beating a mile a minute, why she was suddenly so horrified. She was afraid for a very different reason.

Gambit had been about to kiss her.

And she'd been about to let him.

The Scarlet Witch stepped through the red light, looking exactly the same has she had yesterday save for the silver hoop earrings that had replaced the ankhs. In her hands was a wooden tray, and as she carefully placed in on the ground Rogue craned her neck to see what was on it, her mouth watering rather hopefully. Not eating for longer then she'd had to go without food since… since her powers first manifested (or sooner, if you counted borrowed experiences) made her feel hungrier then she was used to. Her stomach wasn't yet painfully empty, but it was unpleasantly so, and she looked forward to filling it.

Unfortunately, filling it was apparently out of the question. Rogue crawled over the few feet towards the tray and looked down on it with an expression that could only be described as disappointment. There were exactly four things on the plate:

Two cups half-filled with water.

Two brownish-green bars of… something.

Rogue prodded it cautiously with her finger, as if worried it would suddenly explode in front of her, as the Scarlet Witch turned to Gambit with a warning expression. His gaze shifted from looking at the cups of water in contemplation to looking sheepishly innocent up at the girl's scowl.

"Don't even think about it," She snapped, her lips pulling back slightly to show a glint of unnaturally white teeth in a snarl, "That's hardly enough water to keep you _alive _until you get some more_. _There's no way you can collect the amount you'd need to hold a powerful enough charge before you die of dehydration. So just do yourself a favour, and _drink it._"

She glanced over at Rogue, who had picked up one of the bar-things that loosely resembled food and, now knowing that rather than being explosive they were rock-hard, was trying to break it in half with her hands. After a few moments of attempts in vain she dropped it to her lap, unsure what to do with it.

The Scarlet Witch shook her head as she compared their bruises, Gambit looking worse for wear. Of course they would have fought. It was like putting two highly aggressive, non-social, territorial animals together in a cage and telling them to make friends. She was actually kind of surprised that there didn't appear to be anything worse than bruises, as she'd expected a broken arm or two when she'd arrived.

She turned her back on the two to leave and let them figure out how to eat their 'food' themselves.

"Don't kill each other while I'm gone." She called sarcastically over her shoulder as she walked back through her doorway, a wave of her hand making the red sparks fizzle out and vanish. She didn't understand why Selene would bother with sticking the two of them together, other then the amusement of watching two prisoners at each other's' throats.

Wanda would never understand anything that woman did.

Rogue kept her eyes on the wall longer than necessary, not really looking forward to attempting to eat the food or losing her reason not to look at Gambit as she bit her lip hard enough to make it lightly bleed.

After about ten seconds of staring at the wall she reluctantly turned to look back at him. To her relief, and surprise, he wasn't paying attention to her at all. Just gnawing on the bar like it was a bone as if it were the most normal thing in the world. She picked hers back out of her lap, looking at it doubtfully.

Maybe it tasted like normal food, despite the ugliness and hardness? She lifted it up to her nose, giving it a cautious sniff before recoiling from the rancid scent.

Okay, so maybe not.

But Gambit seemed to be enjoying it well enough, and smell didn't necessarily dictate how it would taste…

Right?

Rogue held her breath as she brought the rock-bar-food-thing to her mouth, her tongue automatically scrunching in the back of her mouth as if to avoid the taste already. Apparently that had been wise of it, because the moment she tasted the 'food' as she attempted to gnaw it as Gambit was, she suddenly felt nauseas.

She was somehow able to keep herself from trying to spit the awful taste from her mouth as she gagged, instead reaching for her cup of water desperately. Before she could bring it up to her lips and chug the taste away, a hand grabbed the cup, holding fast as she tried to tug it from Gambit's fingers.

He tutted at her, holding the cup out of her reach.

"Now now, chère," he chuckled, "Remember what Wanda jus' told us? It'd be best if we don' drink de water in one go. You'll want it later more den now."

"But," Rogue said desperately as she kept tugging on the cup, jerking her head towards the bar she had dropped back on the tray, "that _stuff _- "

Gambit placed his other hand over her mouth to silence her.

"Isn't all dat bad," he smiled at her ruefully, "Come on, chère, don' tell me dat non o' does voices in y' 'ead 'aven't 'ad worse."

Rogue froze for a moment, her thoughts for just an instant flickering to ever so slight curiosity on her psyches' memories, an instant long enough for the flood gates to open and bombard her with more knowledge then she had ever wanted to. Nori eating out of the garbage while she lived on the streets. Sooraya being forced to eat rancid meat and rotten vegtables. Ororo frying a rat she'd caught over a fire, actually looking forward to her first meal in almost a week…

Rogue shuddered violently, a hand flying to her mouth as she suddenly felt selfish to not want to eat that food. So what if it was the most foul thing she'd tasted in _her _life. Compared to what other people, her _friends_ and _family_, had to eat in other places, this stuff was delicious. This stuff was a _blessing._

Gambit, as if sensing the change in her, released her immediately and backed away, back to his own food and water.

The sudden silence that hung between them was heavy and awkward; the only sound was the gnawing sound of food-thing on teeth and the occasional shifting. Rogue paused in her trying to ignore the taste of her food (she'd noticed that it had a taste akin to burn cow stomach mixed with something that tasted the same as body odour smelt) to look over at him.

He was stiff, self conscious. She could see it in the way he held his head, in the way his neck seemed stuck in the perfect position to not have to look at her but still seem almost natural. She could see that he knew he'd gone too far, and that he felt bad about it.

She bit her lip, glancing down at the rather unfortunately coloured bar. He shouldn't feel bad. That was her job. If it wasn't for her, he probably wouldn't even be here anyways.

She cleared her throat awkwardly, making his head turn towards her slightly for just an instant.

"So," she mumbled without looking up, watching him in her peripheral vision, "What do you think Selene is trying to accomplish by giving us food that isn't really edible?" She again tried, and failed, to break the bar in half with her hands.

He snorted a small laugh.

"Everyt'ing is edible, chère," he said simply, turning his body to face her properly, "De walls are edible, our clot's are edible, even I'm edible. Mais dat is called cannibalism, and is generally no' acceptable."

The conversation went downhill from there.

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**Yes, I have had cow stomach. We call it tripe, and I've never been fond of it. Chicken heart, on the other hand, is surprisingly tasty.**

**This was a pretty fun chapter to write, and I was almost finished four days ago…**

**But then my brother's girlfriend borrowed my computer. I gave her permission, because hers had crashed and she said she only needed it for one night and she is possibly the nicest person I know, but it still delayed me. I'm not angry. Just sad I didn't get to work on this. :'(**

**Review, because if you don't then your muse(s)/ your favourite authors' muse(s) will leave. And never come back. Ever. SO REVIEW!**

**Flames are an important part of a balanced lifestyle, but it is not recommended or safe in any way shape or form to include them in reviews. **


	11. Words

**Wow… so I don't know if you remember, but I threatened to take away your favourite writers' muses if you didn't review. And guess who's muse ditched her almost immediately after?**

**Hmmm… either I jinxed myself or I'm the favourite writer of someone who didn't review.**

**Either or, SHAME ON SOMEONE! Probably me.**

**Fiddlesticks.**

**And when that stupi- I mean beautiful and wonderful muse of mine decided to again grace me with its presence, I went to Vancouver for two weeks. Computer free. Then to summer camp for another two weeks. Computer free.**

**Anywho, here you are. CHAPTER TEN! Bon ****appétit****!**

**Wait… don't eat my fic! That would involve eating the computer, which is just not healthy. **

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She was making an effort to hate him less, he could see it.

It couldn't be more obvious, in the way she wasn't growling at him as often, the way she didn't hit him as much and the way her glares had almost stopped altogether. Just like he could tell if fate hadn't shoved them together forcibly then she would have been perfectly content in continuing to hate him. And just like he could tell that while she wanted to not hate him, she was being very careful not to like him too much.

Which was understandable.

She _could_ touch him, after all, and it couldn't be clearer that she was worried that because of that ability to touch, she would latch onto him, needy and helpless, and be unable to let go of her new found sense of touch like an addictive drug. She would suddenly rely on this person that she only needed as a way to aid her escape.

And a fun fact about rogues: they don't like to rely on things.

It didn't take a genius to see that she was afraid of not just attachment to him, but any contact in any way, shape, or form at all. Each way she distanced herself had an automatic, practiced air around it. If he touched her at all, even through clothing, she would stiffen or shudder or flinch, despite the fact she knew perfectly well by then that she _couldn't_ hurt him (at least not with poisonous skin. The good old fashioned way, on the other hand…). The kind of instant reaction that he was witnessing came from fear. Fear of herself, fear for others, fear of what had always happened before. Or maybe, a fear that others had trained into her.

So she was trying not to like him too much (which Remy was sure was just _killing_ her, what with his many likeable traits such as good looks and modesty). So with this attempt, he wasn't at all surprised when, after by some wordless agreement they both decided that it must be late and it was time for sleep, she retreated as far from him as possible and curled up in a corner, alone. It was just as cold as the night before, but she was determined to keep away from him that night with just the sheet for warmth.

For about ten minutes. After that she gave up and crawled over to him, curling up against his chest.

Remy didn't say a word, just wrapped his arms around her quietly and increased his energy generation ever so slightly. But he might have been gloating on the inside. Just a bit.

She fell asleep quickly after that, no doubt due to his handy anti-voice-in-head powers, and, exhausted himself from not getting very much sleep the night before (or the night before that or the night before that, now that he thinks about it) he fell asleep not long after her. The deep, dreamless kind that was extremely hard to wake up from. A rarity for Remy LeBeau. He was usually a very light sleeper. It came with his trade.

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When Remy did finally wake up, his arms were empty.

This didn't strike him as odd, Rogue had probably just woken up before him and went into that lovely little corner of hers, and it wasn't like it was the first time he'd fallen asleep with a pretty woman in his arms, expecting to wake up the same way, only to find himself alone. It had happened enough times that he was used to it, though he was more legendary for being the one to leave the pretty lady behind.

So he ignored the fact that Rogue wasn't with him anymore. He was still tired, and settled down with the hope of a little more sleep. Why should he care if Rogue didn't want to linger with him? She was probably in denial over coming to _him_ anyways. No point in making it any more awkward then it had to be.

But his curiosity _was_ piqued when he heard a loud thump that shook the ground under him slightly accompanied by a girlish giggle. That just wasn't something you expect to hear when locked in a room with Rogue.

He tiredly opened one eye, the other eyelid still refusing to be dragged up, and looked with great confusion at the scene in front of him.

It was definitely Rogue, that much he could gather from her baggy brown clothing and the now-dirty auburn and white curls, but that wasn't the strange part.

The strange part was that she was upside-down, standing on her hands with the back of her head facing him and her shirt falling down slightly, exposing her creamy white back to him, which he wasn't complaining about, but it did strike him as unusual.

Remy opened his other eye, forcing himself to sit up as he continued to stare at the strange scene. She began to hum a small tune under her breath, her legs stretched straight and unwavering, almost brushing the ceiling.

"Uhh… Chère?"

Rogue let out a small surprised squeak at the sound of his voice, one arm slipping on the floor and folding under her, forcing the rest of her to crumple onto to floor. She landed on her back, her bare feet hitting the ground not three inches in front of him with a loud _**thump**__._

There was a beat of silence as Remy stared at her face, or rather at the tangled hair over it, before Rogue burst into a round of giggles much higher than usual. Her back arched with the effort of them, sounding undeniably insane, and yet deliriously happy.

"Oh my gosh!" she practically squealed as she sat up suddenly, hair askew, "That is so much FUN!" she raised her hands and messed up her own hair further in speedy, blurred movements as if she had so much energy pent up inside of her that she couldn't bear to sit still for more than a few seconds. Her laugh, again, didn't sound right.

Remy continued to watch her in disbelief as she jumped to her feet, turned to face the wall furthest from him, and cartwheeled into another hand stand, this time with her grinning face towards him. Her eyes were squeezed shut and she kicked her legs gently, like she was swimming. He couldn't help being impressed by her balance, but this was by no means normal behaviour from Rogue. Or any girl he'd ever met over ten.

"Rogue?"

Rogue opened her eyes, giving him a messy smirk that didn't look right on her face. He started slightly when they made eye contact, cringing automatically from the completely black eyeballs, but relaxed marginally when he realized what must have been going on.

Ah, the psyches. One must have gotten control after Rogue got up. That wasn't good, but on the upside, this one didn't seem violent. He could deal with non-violent.

"Rogue's still asleep," not-Rogue said cheerfully, her cheeks beginning to flush from her being upside-down for too long, "I'm Pixie!"

She, Pixie, apparently, slowly lowered herself into a bridge, Rogue's back arching attractively until her feet touched the floor and took some of the weight off her arms, before leisurely lifting her hands from the ground and straightening, as if testing the limits of her muscles. She smiled in satisfaction and she stood tall, the borrowed body apparently working better then she'd expected.

"This is so cool!" Pixie announced as she turned to face him again, "I've never gotten control before! The others always beat me to it, but they're acting all fuzzy right now for some reason. I feel so… so," she stretched her whole body as long as she could, palms pressing up against the ceiling, "tall." She finished with a slight nod.

Remy crossed his legs in front of him, resting his chin on his closed fist as he watched with slight amusement as 'Pixie' did another slow and exaggerated handstand, this time with her back facing him. For a moment he imagined that it was actually Rogue who was acting this way, and he had to hold back a snort of laughter at such a ludicrous thought.

Her arm again slipped from underneath her, though this time it was clearly intentional, and she fell onto her back, giggling hysterically as her feet smacked into the floor.

She quickly rolled over onto her stomach and grinned up at him; eyes still an unnerving complete black, yet still somehow still holding the brightness and innocence that seemed to exclusively belong in the eyes of a child. He forced himself to shift his gaze to her mouth, avoiding eye contact even though he wanted to keep looking to see if he could find a pupil or _something _to hint at where her gaze was aimed. After a moment the grin sagged, falling into a slightly pouty frown.

"I don't get it."

It was Remy's turn to frown.

"Don' get what, petite?"

Pixie curled a strand of white hair around her finger and tilted her head slightly to the side. Remy had had no idea that anything could make Rogue's face look so young and innocent. She usually had an underlying anger about her.

"Why Ms. Tabitha and Ms. Jubilee like you so much. They keep saying you're 'hot'. I guess you _are_ real warm, but I think they mean 'handsome'." She frowned and tapped a finger on her chin thoughtfully, still looking him over, "I don't get it. You look like every other boy I know."

Remy chuckled awkwardly, already not liking where this conversation was headed.

"Uh, I t'ink y' gotta be a little older t' understand what dey mean, petite."

Rogue's face pouted childishly.

"But I don't wanna wait until I'm older." She whined pathetically, her eyes widening sadly in a way that would have been much more effective if she had pupils, "and what's 'sexual tension', anyways? Ms. Tabitha keeps saying that you two are full of it, but I have no idea what-" Pixie's words were cut short as, for a split second, her eyes flickered to Rogue's usual green and there was a spike of confusion in her emotions, then back to black with a feeling of realization along with slight fear and guilt.

"Uh oh." Pixie muttered sheepishly before the eyes switched back to a more concrete-looking green, and her face changing to a more common expression seen on Rogue. Annoyance.

"Pixie..." she said, irritation colouring her words more than anger, like when scolding a kindergartener that was caught doing the same bad thing for the millionth time, "just what do you think you're doing?"

Her eyes switched back to black, and Pixie-Rogue bit her lip sheepishly.

"Uh…" her voice was noticeably higher, "Nothing?"

Eyes flickering back to green, Rogue made a sound that sounded remarkably similar to what a cow makes while giving birth, letting her head fall and bang into the hard wood of the floor.

"Never mind," Remy heard her slightly muffled groan, "Just get back with the others."

Rogue's head suddenly shot up, her Pixie eyes wide and fearful.

"Right!" she squeaked, "It won't happen again! Sorry!"

This time Rogue visibly flinched as her eyes changed back to green, her face crumpling slightly in pain before apparently forcing it to smooth back into an indifferent mask. But Remy could feel her hidden stress and exhaustion, even as she pushed herself up with her arms and stood unshaking. She shot him a cold glance down her nose.

"Apparently your static shield is flawed." She said to him in such an indifferent voice that it freaked him out a bit, "Pixie, _Pixie_, got through it. Do you have any idea how weak Pixie's psyche is? Ah hardly notice her most of the time!"

Remy shrugged at her as she began to pace around the room, a habit apparently in development whenever she started to panic but didn't want to show it. For some reason it made him happy to realize he had started to notice her habits.

"Never said anyt'ing 'bout makin' de voices disappear, chère," He said nonchalantly, "It's a _shield_. It was bound t' 'ave chinks in de armour. Maybe Pixie jus' found one by chance."

Rogue stopped in her pacing suddenly just as she began to again walk away from him, keeping her arms frozen on the spot for a moment before letting them drop limply at her sides.

"No," she said quietly, "No, Ah could hear all of them last night. They're…" a hand slowly rose to her temple, stopping to hover just over the skin, "They're getting stronger. Quickly."

Even if he hadn't been able to feel it with his empathy, it was impossible for Remy to miss the dread and _denial _in her voice.

"Chère?"

Rogue was silent as she turned around and kneeled in front of him so that they were face to face. The cold submission that hung around her was almost ominous.

"The psyches' taking over my body is a new development," she said quietly, softly, "They're not usually so _loud._ So… assertive." She looked down, face eerily blank, "It's been building up for a long time now. I was hoping I'd have more time, but…" her voice caught, "they're trying, and succeeding, to take over and soon Ah'm not going to be able to get back in control. Ah'll be theirs to pass around among themselves while Ah stay locked up in my own head…" Her words trailed off helplessly, her gaze becoming glossy with tears that she blinked defiantly away.

Remy had to force himself not to let his mouth fall open, slack-jawed. He'd realized that the voices in her head must have been giving her trouble, but it hadn't occurred to him that it was _that _bad. He'd figured they'd been acting up because she was stressed out, what with being a prisoner and all.

But it was much worse than that. Someday, and someday soon, from the sound of it, the voices in her head would take over completely, and she would be helpless to do anything as she watched them do as they pleased with her body from behind some kind of transparent wall, always watching, unable to do anything about it.

And what was worse, she'd _known _that this would happen. He could see it in the way she spoke of it. She had already cried enough tears about it, and she knew perfectly well that she couldn't to do anything to stop it, like an inoperable cancer in her brain, knowing it was going to kill her. And all she could do was pretend that everything was alright, that her life wasn't doomed, when she knew perfectly well that her days were numbered.

Rogue was slowly going insane. And he knew that she was only telling him this to warn him that sometime soon, she wasn't going to be _her _anymore, and that whoever she became might not be friendly. Warning _him_. The man that she had every reason to hate and had no reason to warn.

Remy suddenly felt very in insignificant, like an awful, terrible person. For all her big words and growls of hatred, Rogue was a _good_ _person_. And what was he? He was selfish bastard who ruined what were possibly her last few sane days by putting her in a cell, and with _him_, no less, when she should be with her friends and her family.

It made him want to give her something, _anything _back to her. To make up even marginally what he had stolen. Possibly the first time in his life he wanted to make up for stealing something.

He bit his lip, looking up until their eyes met, holding her gaze long enough to see it glaze over, and decided what he would give to her.

A little piece of truth.

"I have a hypnotic charm."

She blinked once in surprise, and Remy could have sworn her gaze cleared slightly in that second. He couldn't help but relax marginally, despite the fact that she would probably be angry with him as soon as she had time to process what he'd just said.

"Hypnotic charm?" She asked, almost sounding unsure of it rolling off of her own tongue. Remy nodded in confirmation.

"Oui. Hypnotic charm."

Rogue looked at him for several more seconds, eyebrows slowly rising, surprise at his sudden confession beginning to dim into irritation.

Then she reached over and whacked him hard across the head, ignoring him as he cried out his objections in French.

"That's for not telling me the first time I asked-"

"You 'ad me pinned to de wall an' was t'reatening t' gouge my eyes out!"

"-And as long as we're apparently confessing things," She paused, as if thinking, her mouth twitching up into a slight smile, "My favourite colour is green, Ah can speak German, Polish, Japanese, Italian, Russian, and Arabic, but somehow missed French and Spanish in there, and… my favourite colour of fruit is red."

Remy stared at her for a few moments, dumbfounded.

"Yo' favourite colour of fruit?"

"Yes."

"… is red."

"Yes."

"…why?"

Rogue let out a short laugh, as if that should be obvious.

"All the best fruit are red. Apples, raspberries, cherries, strawberries, pomegranates, red grapes, you name a good fruit, it's probably red."

"Oh… okay. I guess I'm more o' an orange fruit kind o' person den. I can only speak English et français, et mon favourite colour… is red."

Rogue rolled her eyes and muttered something about only wussies being orange fruit kind of people, which Remy found a little bit offensive, and then opened her mouth as if to continue, but Remy silenced her with a finger to her lips. He ignored the way she automatically flinched from his touch.

"What's wit' de sudden subject change?" he asked seriously, ignoring her as she swatted away his hand and scowled at him, relaxation winding back into tense and nervousness.

"Ah'm slowly going crazy, and you obviously can't look someone directly in the eye without 'charming' them," she said in her diluted southern drawl, "Ah figured discussing the colours of fruit would be less heavy."

"Oh… but y' should probably know dat it don' work on a person who knows 'bout it."

Rogue rolled her eyes before meeting his gaze dead on.

"Gambit?"

"Oui?"

"Shut up."

Remy smirked and mimed zipping his lips. Rogue, apparently satisfied, continued on with her apparently aimless comments.

"Ah like winter because no one looks at me weird for covering up, but summer is the best because it's warm, large groups of small children scare me, and I don't like airplanes."

Remy smirked as she trailed off, leaving a quiet space for his answer.

"Summer in N'awlins gets a little _too _warm fo' mon liking, mais in de winter it rains a lot," he thought about it for a moment, "I guess I like Fall. Dry _et_ not too warm. I've been told I'm okay wit' kids, may dey do get annoyin' after a while, et airplanes are possibly de best invention ever."

Rogue let out a small unamused laugh.

"Yah, that's just because you've never fallen out of one."

Remy shrugged.

"I've _jumped _out o' a couple, et pushed some people, aussi."

Rogue waved him off quickly, unimpressed.

"Please, you probably had a parachute-"

_Not all the time _Remy thought, but held his tongue.

"-while the plane Ah was in got a hole blasted in it that I was lucky enough to get sucked through. No parachute. Just free-fall. While we were still in an air fight."

Remy smirked at her.

"Must 'ave 'urt when y' 'it de ground."

She snorted, lightly punching him in the arm.

"Don't be obnoxious. There was a teleporter on board that saved me."

"X-men troubles?"

"Yep," Rogue smiled almost ruefully, "It's the life."

There was another pause, and this time Remy spoke first.

"I'm told dat I'm a decent cook, I smoke, et I'm un phenomenal poker player, as in I could probably be a professional if I wanted to."

Rogue laughed, hand twisting into her tangled mane apparently without realizing it.

"Ah'm not so decent at cooking, Ah find those cancer sticks disgusting, and I've never played poker, as in Ah'd rather become a mechanic then a professional poker player."

Remy raised an eyebrow when he heard that she'd never played poker before, almost saying that they would have to fix that before catching himself. That would imply that they'd see each other when (or if) they got out of there, which Remy knew well enough that that wasn't going to happen.

So he commented on something else.

"Mechanic, eh?"

It would be impossible to miss the way that the single word 'mechanic' made Rogue's entire face light up.

"What do you know about motorcycles, Gambit?"

As it turned out, Remy knew quite a bit about motorcycles.

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It was such a simple, mundane topic to linger on. And yet they must have sat there for almost an hour, talking about _motorcycles._ Not more pressing matters, like the fact that Rogue was slowly going insane or that there was very little chance of them making it out of that cell alive. But that was the whole point of Rogue's little game, wasn't it? To draw the attention away from hopeless matters that they couldn't change no matter how long they painstakingly lingered on it.

And here was the perfect thing to talk about. Something they were obviously both passionate about but had no need to hold back because of personal information they didn't want to share. Both were interested in what the other had to say on the topic, and both clearly knew exactly what they were talking about.

Instead, the problem arose in how Gambit inevitably looked when talking about something he was passionate about.

They were both definitely gross by then, after what Rogue was pretty sure had been almost two full days of no tending to personal hygiene, neither of them smelled particularly good. They were both greasy from no washing and Rogue would kill for a toothbrush at that point, not to mention some soap.

But Gambit somehow managed to look good despite all of this. His hair still managed to fall in a way that made him look boyishly cute and yet ruggedly handsome, and the stubble that had by now grown into the beginnings of a beard certainly helped that appearance. She'd been trying to convince herself that she only noticed these things because of his strange hypnotism power, apparently a 'hypnotic charm', but now she knew that it wouldn't affect her now that she knew about it.

_Well, there goes your last excuse._

"Chère? Chère, you okay?"

Rogue blinked, dragging herself away from her train of thought, only to realize she'd been staring at Gambit, unabashedly and, if her thoughts had reflected at all onto her face, admirably. She felt the heat of a heavy blush fill her cheeks.

"Oh, sorry. Ah missed everything you just said."

Gambit grinned at her, making her stupid heart automatically flutter (stop _doing_ that!).

"Distracted by my dashing good looks?" he asked in a playful way, turning to strike an exaggerated pose with his eyes squinty and his lips puckered ridiculously. Rogue had to force down her laughter, and could only barely manage to speak.

"Hardly," she said cheekily, "I'm trying to see whether or not staring at your face will make it stop hurting my eyes after a while."

Gambit snorted, dropping his pose.

"Pfft, it's only 'urting yo' eyes 'cause it's too darn beau. Like de sun, my beauty 'urts when looked at too closely."

Rogue couldn't stop the laughter this time, it suddenly burst from her with great enough force to tip her forward, clutching at the stitches of happy pain in her sides. When she was finished, she took a deep breath, sitting back up and brushing her hair back into relative organization, only to fall back into a laughing fit the moment her eyes landed on him.

The whole time Gambit just sat there calmly, an amused smirk tugging on the corners of his mouth, waiting for the laughter to subside patiently.

When she was completely positive she was finished she let out a long, happy sigh, the shadow of her laughter remaining on her breath.

"Aw, Gambit. You are one hard bastard to hate."

Rogue watched, still slightly delirious from her laughter, as the smile faded from Remy's face. Suddenly his gaze was intense. Far too intense for Rogue's comfort. Her amusement quickly disappeared.

"Gambit?" she asked quietly, cocking her head to the side as if that would help her examine his face, by looking at it from a different angle.

"Remy." He said quietly, almost too quiet for her to hear.

"Ah-" Rogue blinked, "What?"

"Remy," he repeated, a little louder, "My name is Remy LeBeau."

The silence was deafening, as little sense as that made. Rogue suddenly couldn't breathe, and was sure that Gambit, no, Remy was holding his breath as well; waiting to hear her response to what he'd just told her.

His real name.

She was someone who could appreciate the weight of what that meant to someone who wanted, _needed _to stay anonymous. Her voice was stuck in her throat.

Should she give him her name back? Something she'd intrusted with _absolutely no one _except for Logan, and even then not even her full name? That just didn't seem fair to the people she'd known and trusted since she had come to the institute, to tell the first man who gave up his own name, obviously after much contemplation.

After the silence had stretched well past the awkward mark, Rogue managed to force some words through her lips.

"LeBeau? As in Le Beau? As in 'The Handsome' in French?" she smiled weakly, "Funny how that turned out to be your real name. Does thinking you're good looking run in your blood?"

There was a long pause, and Rogue worried that she'd said something insensitive.

"Actually," Gambit, or _Remy_ apparently, said blankly, "I've never met my biological parents. Apparently mon eyes unnerved dem more den a little. Dey left me in a gutter."

Rogue inhaled sharply, her eyes widening in a mixture of horror, surprise and pity.

"Oh my God, Ah'm so sorry. I didn't know-"

Gamb-_Remy_ raised a hand to silence her, a small smile that didn't affect the rest of his face appearing.

"It's okay, chère. Not yo' fault," He looked down, as if again hiding his eyes because of his hypnotic charm, except this time there was no need to worry about that, "Merde, my name could be somet'ing else entirely. Depends on whet'er o' not mon… _parents_ named me before dey saw my eyes."

Rogue reached out hesitantly, placing her fingertips under his chin and tipping his face up, hoping to meet his gaze. But his eyes were pressed tightly together, ashamed. She gently cupped his cheek in her hand, his facial hair brushing against her leather glove. She could practically feel the texture on her skin, and for a moment she actually wanted to take off her glove to see how much more potent the sense of feeling would be without it. She opted for keeping it on.

"Remy," she whispered, his name sounding strange and alien on her tongue, "there is nothing wrong with your eyes. They- your parents, just didn't understand. Your eyes don't have anything to do with who you are." His eyelids didn't flutter, just remained squeezed shut with a new determination. "Remy," she said with slightly more force, a hint of a growl creeping into her voice, "look at me, damn it."

His eyelids slowly relaxed, and before she knew it Gambit, _Remy_, was peering at her through his eyelashes, slowly opening his eyes further until they were there, exposed in all of their red and black glory. She couldn't believe that she once thought they belonged in the face of the devil.

The devil would never have such nervousness in his eyes, such uncertainty and self-consciousness. Rogue could suddenly see the difference between Remy LeBeau and Gambit.

Gambit was cold and professional. A fighter, a crafty bastard who flirted even as he fought with every bit of intensity he could muster. Remy LeBeau was different. Remy LeBeau was the person she'd been seeing since yesterday, the man who joked and flirted easily, who made sure she didn't waste her water and fought her with a smile and a laugh. Remy LeBeau liked motorcycles and Autumn down south and orange fruit.

She was suddenly hyper aware of how close they were, the heaviness of their breath that was the only sound in the room, just how close their lips were.

How easy it would be to lean forward and… and…

But she couldn't. She could still hear the psyches so loudly, feel them pounding on the heavy mental wall she'd put up, reinforced by Remy's static shield. She knew she wouldn't last much longer as _herself_. It was only a matter of time before the psyches overpowered her, and it wouldn't be fair to become emotionally invested to someone like that, even if she was never to see him again. What if they did get out, and they did see each other again. What if kissing him now turned into something more, something that wouldn't even last if she wasn't going insane because of her powers?

It would only hurt. Nothing good could come of it. She would content herself with finding a new ally, and maybe a new friend, but that was all he was allowed to be.

She forced herself to pull away and take her hand off of his face, smiling at him in reassurance when he frowned at her as she carefully distanced herself.

"If it makes you feel any better," Rogue said softly, not wanting to disturb the gentle quiet that had fallen on them, "I don't remember my real parents either."

Remy raised a cynical eyebrow.

"Dey ditch y' too?" he asked equally as soft.

"Maybe," she admitted, "I can't remember. I don't remember anything before I was eight. My furthest memory is of a strange man who brought me to a social service building and kept calling me 'Rogue'. I never saw him again, and next thing I knew I was in the first of many foster homes. They told me that when I was found I was covered in blood that wasn't mine and looked like I hadn't eaten in more than a week."

The duo stared at each other for well over a minute without saying a word. After an eternity of silence, Remy finally spoke.

"We are two messed up mutants, aren't we?"

Rogue managed a small smile.

"Hate to be the one to break it to you, sugar, but most mutants are messed up. It's sort of part of the package."

There was a short pause before Rogue spoke again.

"My favourite board game is checkers, Ah've always wanted to go to Europe, and I find chick flicks a disgrace to the world of movies. A movie needs at least _one_ decent explosion in it…"

**FINISHED!**

**Did Pyro and Bobby call Rogue by her real name? I haven't seen the first three movies in ages, and I'm working from memory here. Let's just assume the answer is no, they did not.**

**Review, because if you don't then you'll never get why the song 'Entry of the Gladiators' actually has an extremely funny name. Seriously, go look it up on youtube.**

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**You know who you are.**


	12. Options

Wanda walked down the hallway at a steady pace; head held high and face expressionless as her heels tapped rhythmically on the stone floor. She resisted the urge to glance over her shoulder, nervous despite knowing that she wasn't technically breaking any rules, even as the hairs on the back of her neck began to prickle with the unnerving feeling of eyes on her back.

But she kept her face forward and her eyes unwavering.

She shouldn't have been seeking them out, it was stupid and it was reckless, if half of Selene's threats were true. It didn't make sense for her to suddenly need to see them, to make sure they were okay, when seeing them could quite possibly have them killed. But there was something she had to do that night, something she wasn't sure she _could_ do, and she needed advice.

She needed her parent's advice.

Selene hadn't technically forbade Wanda to visit her parents. In fact, if you wanted to get technical, Selene had _invited _Wanda to visit them. It had been when Wanda had first started providing her services for Selene, and had actually expected to just be able to see her family whenever she wanted, and asked when she could. Her answer had been a cruel laugh and a sarcastic 'Of course you can. If you can find them'.

It had seemed like a bigger deal then, with the underground labyrinth that made Selene's headquarters. But Selene overestimates her servants (*cough* slaves *cough*) and underestimates her prisoners. Wanda had been listening for whispers about her family among the mutants working for Selene for ages now, and recently had figured out where they were being held.

And yet she didn't rush to see them, and she still wasn't rushing, for one reason. Selene was _unpredictable_. She did not hold a life to any particular value. People, humans especially, were expendable, and as a punishment for embarrassing Selene and her 'airtight security', there was a good chance that one of them would be violently murdered.

So Wanda had decided that it was best not to risk it, and just stay away from her parents cell altogether. A forbidden fruit dangling right where she could see it, tempting, but she wouldn't dare get to close, worried about the serpent watching for its moment from the shadows.

Except for that day, apparently.

She stopped dead at the entrance, which was little more than a rectangular hole in the wall that, honestly, she probably wouldn't have noticed if she wasn't looking for it, and felt her heart flutter slightly in anticipation. Her parents were _right there_. So close. Was that her Mama's breathing she could hear from where she stood? Was it Tata's? Or was it the guard that kept them there against their will.

She took a deep breath before she turned her head and looked.

Her eyes filled with tears, half relieved and half devastated at their states. Relieved, because they were alive. Mama still had pouty lips and skin so much darker than Wanda's, her lashes were still curled and long and her hair was still a luminous silver of age. Tata still had the slight outline of his moustache, though by then a thick beard had grown around it, and both of his large brown eyes. He still had bushy eyebrows and a nose that almost seemed too big for his face.

Devastated, because though they were alive, they were not well. Mama's beautiful skin was covered in dark bruises and cuts, some fresh and scabbing while others were fading into pinkish scars. Her thick mane of silver hair was tangled and filthy, her lips shrivelled as if she hadn't touched a drop of moisture in years, the skin of her face tight against her bones in malnourishment, her limbs sickly and frail looking. Tata's balding head was still bleeding from a fresh wound, the latest of many, and his kind eyes were shiny and unfocused, as if with fever. He looked equally as underfed as mama, and she realized that it was his breathing she'd been able to hear from the hallway, and could still hear. It was loud and raspy, as if he was hard pressed to squeeze the air in and out of his lungs.

Wanda felt a tear escape her eye, leaving a dark trail of eyeliner down her cheek in its wake, her ruby lips parting as the words escaped in an almost sigh.

"Mama," she breathed, "Tata."

Tata remained motionless, leaning up against the far wall of the cell and staring off blankly, but Mama looked up sharply at her voice, happiness filling the dark brown of her eyes as they fell on Wanda.

"Fata!" she cried out, standing with surprising swiftness for her frail appearance.

Before she knew what she was doing, Wanda was running, trying to cover the distance between her and her mama as quickly as possible. Nothing standing in between her and her family, nothing at all except, except… wait.

Nothing?

But that couldn't be-

A wall-like barrier suddenly slammed into her, throwing her off her feet and sending her sailing backwards into the rock wall. She impacted with a sharp crack of her skull hitting against the stone, and then crumpled to the floor, gasping from having the wind knocked out of her so violently.

Then the numbness started. Invisible fingers of ice, reaching out and brushing against her skin, leaving behind a painful prickly feeling, like her nerves were sputtering weakly before ceasing to work, a heavy nothingness weighing down on her as they sizzled out. The same cycle repeated all over her body, painstakingly slow: ice, then pain, then nothing. She felt it creep across her face, freezing it in an expression of disbelief, locking her gaze on her parents on the other side of the room whether she wanted to look there or not. She felt it as it snaked its way down her throat, making her breath shudder as her lungs froze, and the ice began to spread through her very blood.

She couldn't call out.

She couldn't move.

She couldn't breathe.

She couldn't do anything but stare ahead as her mother bowed her head sadly, turning to look at a corner in the room that Wanda couldn't see.

"Stop it," Mama said quietly, her thick Romanian accent colouring her words sadly, "Stop it, Torpid. She understands."

A pause, and then, all at once, the numbness was gone. Wanda gasped deeply as her lungs were released, her back arching with the effort as she tried to inhale as much air as she could manage. When the panting subsided slightly, she turned to look at this 'Torpid'. Obviously Selene's security.

He wasn't anything special. In fact, if Wanda were to describe him, she'd say he looked as if he were _trying_ to look as unremarkable as possible. He had short cropped brown hair, plain features, medium build, ordinary clothing. The only thing that obviously marked him as a mutant were his slightly luminous white eyes.

But if Wanda looked carefully, she could see what almost looks like ripples of heat rising from his hands. An ironic appearance for something that she now knew felt like ice and numbness.

Torpid glared at the Scarlet Witch for a moment longer before reaching out a hand and pointing to a thin black line faintly marked on the floor in what looked like charcoal. The meaning was clear enough. Don't cross the line, he won't attack.

Wanda swallowed heavily, her limbs still prickling painfully as she stood as steadily as she could and made her way as close to the line as she dared to get.

Her mother smiled at her sadly from what Wanda could now see were invisible bars made by Torpid. For a moment she wondered if he ever slept, or if he had to be awake at all times to keep the prison working.

She was a little disappointed that there weren't metal bars. At least then she'd be able to reach through and touch her mama, embrace her, perhaps. Instead she has an invisible wall to look at her through.

But it was better than nothing. She had come here to pour her heart out to her parents, not to hug them. And for once, it felt like there was nothing stopping her from doing just that.

"Mama," she said softly, trying to ignore the feeling of Torpid's eyes on her, "I-I don't know what I'm doing anymore. I thought I did. I thought t-that maybe, if I just did as I was told, you'd be free, and safe, but now…" her voice wavered for a moment, her eyes suddenly shiny with tears she was too proud to shed, "but now I don't know if you'll ever be free. I'm scared, Mama. I'm scared you and Tata are going to die."

Her mother looked grim, but never looked away from her daughter's eyes. She opened her mouth as if to respond, but before she could get a single word out, someone interrupted from the back of the cell.

"Marya? Who—who is that?"

Both Wanda and her mother whipped their heads towards the sound in surprise as Tata spoke, though his still feverish eyes were still pointed at the ceiling, unseeing.

Mama took the short steps to Tata and kneeled beside him, talking a weak hand in hers with a hopeful expression.

"Our daughter, Django," she whispered in soft Romanian, "It's our daughter."

Wanda could have sworn she saw his eyes light up at the news, though they still did not seem to focus.

"Ana is here?"

Marya's face fell slightly as her husband said the wrong name.

"No, Django. _Wanda_. Ana… Ana is no longer with us. Remember?"

But Tata did not seem to hear her; instead he continued to smile at nothing.

"Beautiful Ana, so you've come to visit your humble parents. It is good to know you are not too busy for us now that you have moved on with your life."

Marya bowed her head slightly as Wanda stared, uncomprehending.

"Mama," she whispered as Django continued to mutter to 'Ana' in Romanian, "What is wrong with Tata?"

Marya turned to Wanda then, the wrinkles and creases on her skin deepening in her grief.

"He… he has not been doing well. All this time here, it has broken his mind," Marya hesitated, her gaze flickering to Torpid, before she continued, "Wanda. It is clear now that Selene has no intention of letting us live."

Wanda opened her mouth to argue, but Marya held up a hand to silence her.

"Your father and I have both lived long, happy lives. But you, you have only just begun to live. So, my child, if what you must do in exchange for our lives is too terrible, or if it will hurt you too much… I am prepared to die. And I am sure your father would say the same if he were in the right mind as well."

"Mama, I can't—"

Marya cut her daughter off sharply, eyes flashing so fierce they looked as if their intensity would shatter the frail-looking bones of her face.

"You _must._ Our lives are not worth innocent blood, much less on your hands. You cannot do terrible things for our safety, my child!" her face softened slightly, the fire lessening in her eyes, "You are so innocent yourself, beautiful Wanda, so pure. Do not ruin yourself. I wouldn't survive the grief of it."

Wanda felt the trails of more tears running down her face, dribbling off of her chin and hitting the floor with a faint _drip, drip, drip._

"Mama, don't make me decide…"

"You do not have to decide yet," Marya whispered, reaching over to place a hand over her husband's, "but remember that compliance is not your only option."

Wanda reached out, her hand stopping just short of the thin black line.

"I love you so much," she whispered, "You and Tata both."

Marya smiled softly.

"I know."

Wanda slowly got to her feet, forcing herself to walk in the opposite direction then she wanted to go. Towards the door. She purposely delayed her steps, until she inevitably stepped through to the hallway. There she paused; looking over her shoulder at her parents huddled in the corner. Her mother smiling gently and her father muttering feverishly.

Then she turned and started her way back down the hall.

She didn't know then that she would never see her parents again.

**(())(())(())(())(())(())(())**

**I have so many 'this is why it's late' excuses that I won't even bother. Life's a doozy, and that's what got in the way.**

**Review, because I am convinced that without reviews the sun will cease to exist, plunging us into an ice age in which nothing will be able to live and earth would all die. This is a very scary thing to believe. Review and stop me from thinking that it will happen.**

**Flames have always been important. From chasing away dinosaurs to cooking food to burning down important political buildings for kicks, we need flames. But in reviews, they are just not fun at all. I mean, you can't even burn things with review-flames! So what's the point?**


	13. Can't I Just Kill Him a Little?

**As one or two of you may or may not notice, I stole, almost word for word, several scenes from the comics, with only slight variations. I did not make them up and I will never make money off of them, so please to not sue me. I am currently happy being not sued. Thank you, and enjoy!**

Nori glared at Bobby from across the room, little branches of electricity sparking in her blue hair and making it frizz slightly in her annoyance. There they were, with his freaking _girlfriend_ missing without a single clue as to where she was, and he's playing video games while trying to flirt with both Laurie and Amara _at the same time._ At least they both looked annoyed with his attempts and weren't encouraging him, not that he needed much _encouragement_.

"Ice_boy_" Nori muttered under her breath, glancing at the television screen showing his game of _Mario Kart_, then down at the Wii that was connected to the TV. It was his own personal system, she noted, no doubt taken from his TV-less room so that he could use it with the rec room television.

Nori stared at it in contemplation for a few moments before deciding that it wouldn't be a great loss.

She flexed her fingers lightly; changing the settings on her gauntlets so that it would provide a low-level shock, then pointed at the game system and let a little string of blue electricity jump from her finger to the machine.

Bobby gave a loud yelp, dropping his controller in shock as there was a loud zap and popping sound, the game flickering off from the screen. He stared at the Wii incredulously where it was dripping melted plastic onto the carpet before spinning in his seat to glare at Nori, who was sitting nonchalantly at the hardly-used poker table.

She put on a mock-innocent look.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she said with wide eyes, "Were you playing that?"

Bobby glared at her, his hair still burnt (she'd have to thank Pyro for that again later) and his cold blue eyes actually _almost_ bordering threatening.

"What's your problem, Ashida?" He demanded, crossing his arms in front of his chest like a six year old. The rest of the rec room had gone silent, all eyes turned on them and their obviously soon-to-be fight.

"What's _my _problem?" Nori growled as she jumped to her feet, arm gauntlets sparking dangerously, "What's _your _problem, Drake? Your freaking girlfriend has been _kidnapped_, and YOU DON'T EVEN CARE!"

Bobby raised his eyebrows, as if he was surprised that _that_ was why she was so angry, before smirking slightly like she was being silly and naive.

"Rogue will be _fine_," he said casually, "Wolverine's looking for her. And besides, the fact that she's gone isn't even _my _fault. You were there when she was taken, why didn't _you _do anything about it? Huh?"

A skinny boy with dark skin and wearing glasses, David, stepped forward, placing a restraining hand on the Japanese girl's shoulder.

"Nori…" he said murmured warningly. She shook him off, eyes unwavering from Bobby.

"I was _unconscious,_" she growled, "There wasn't exactly much I could do."

Bobby scoffed, rolling his eyes. Nori visibly tensed, fists clenching tightly.

"And yet you still managed to knock Sam Guthrie out for a few days. Way to go."

Nori lunged at him, but not before David threw his arms around her, holding her back with considerable difficulty. Laurie and Victor ran up to help keep her from murdering Bobby, as if practicing a drill. This was not an uncommon occurrence.

"Nori, let it go!" the David said through gritted teeth as she strained against his hold, "He's not worth it!"

"Oh, come on," Nori complained angrily, reaching out an arm from the firm hold the three of her peers had on her as if trying to strangle Bobby, "can't I just kill him a little bit?"

Bobby snorted, lifting his hands into fists covered in a light sheen of frost.

"Bring it on, gloves."

Nori hissed at the jab at her gauntlets, her outstretched hand curling into a fist and glowing a blinding electric blue. The three people holding her back were dragged a few inches foreword, but Amara jumped from the couch and grabbed Nori's arm, pulling it back into a more awkward angle so she couldn't blast Bobby's head off.

"Forget it," David said under his breath, "Just walk away."

Nori glanced over her shoulder at him, her lips pursing as if in consideration as she scanned his face slowly, then back to Bobby, consideration turning to murderous hate. Her eyes darted between the two almost comically for a few moments, switching back and forth from submission and hate before finally resting on David. She smirked slightly.

As she relaxed, Laurie, Victor, and Amara stepped back and retreated away from her, but remained wary of another sudden attack. Only David stayed, keeping a guiding hand on her shoulder as he carefully steered her towards the door. She seemed content enough to let him lead her, until they came to the doorway and looked over her shoulder with a wicked smirk sent Bobby's way.

"Oh, and Drake?" she called over at the mutant who was, at that moment, worriedly inspecting his ruined Wii. Bobby looked over in time to see the bolt she had aimed at him connect with a _zap_.

As he fell to the floor, stunned as if tasered, Nori smiled sweetly, brushing David's hand off of her shoulder.

"Fuck you."

She turned and walked out of the door with her head held high and her hand around David's, leaving everyone gaping at Bobby's prone body, the several people who weren't surprised simply watching Nori and David leave with a mixture of amusement and annoyance.

David pinched the bridge of his nose as if to try and ward off a coming headache.

"_Really_?" he murmured as she pulled him down the hallway to the front door, passing other students doing generally nothing, considering it was middle of summer holidays, in the front atrium of the giant Institute and through the front door, "Did you _really_ have to shock him?"

"Do you want the honest answer?" Nori asked as she walked quickly and calmly across the tiles of the courtyard and past the Jean Gray, Scott Summers, and Charles Xavier memorials in Storm's garden, "Or the _responsible_ answer?"

David sighed as she let go of his hand to jump over the fence surrounding Storm's garden before he followed her over, ending up near the edge of the forest that bordered the Institute.

"Honest answer, I guess."

Nori grabbed his hand again and began to make her way through the trees, farther and farther away from the crowded building.

"Because," she said matter-of-factly, "He's an asshole. I do not like assholes. However, assholes are fun to shock."

David managed to sigh as she pulled him deeper into the forest, no hint of a path as she wound through the trees.

"I understand you like to shock Bobby. You like to shock a lot of people. But do you have to—"

Nori suddenly stopped, David plowing right into her and stumbling back slightly as she stood firm, cutting off his words.

"David?" She asked, turning to face him with her hands on her hips. David frowned.

"Yes?"

She stepped forward, wrapping her metal arms around his neck so that their faces were close.

"Less talking." She muttered before grabbing his face and crushing her lips to his roughly, only giving him time to let out a surprised 'mnff!'

Though, in hindsight, he probably should have seen that coming.

**(())(())(())(())(())(())**

As David pulled away Nori made a noise of protest in the back of her throat, trying to yank his face back to hers. David ignored her attempts, straitening up and looking in the direction of the flash he'd seen from the corner of his eye, a bright fuschia pink, with mild curiosity as he straightened his cock-eyed glasses.

"What was that?" he half asked Nori and half asked himself. The blue-haired girl sat up with a pout, hair in question wildly rumpled.

"It was probably just Jubilee or Tabitha goofing around," she murmured distractedly, putting her hands on his shoulders and trying to tug him back down, "just ignore it."

David pulled away from her, much to her annoyance, and stood up, neck craning curiously.

"I don't think so," he said quietly, again half to himself, "Tabitha and Jubes' lights are… different somehow. More sparkly, less blinding—"

His words suddenly cut off as he thought, for just a moment, he heard a familiar voice. He cocked his head to the side, listening harder. Nori straightened up, annoyed at her boyfriend's seemingly never-ending curiosity.

"What?" she asked, almost impatiently as she got to her feet as well.

"Do you hear that?" David muttered, taking several small steps forward, movements intentionally silent, "It sounds just like… just like…" his eyes suddenly widened as he realized just who the voice he was hearing belonged to, "Just like Kevin."

This got Nori's attention. She was suddenly less interested in convincing her boyfriend to go back to making out and more interested in the direction of the long gone pink flash.

"Kevin?" she repeated, unsure, "'Death touch and angst issues' Kevin? 'Disappeared without having an apparent reason' Kevin?"

David took a cautious step forward, dry and brittle nettle and leaves crunching under his running shoes as he moved.

"The very same," he muttered as he parted some of the thick underbrush that they had been, uh, _hanging out_ in. He peaked through the branches, then immediately seemed to pale at what he saw, "And he's brought friends."

Kevin was there all right, different from how David remembered him, but there none the less, speaking in a low voice to a large crowd of mutants.

For a moment he studied his former classmate. He and Kevin had never been particularly close, but he knew him well enough to recognize that he was much too pale and his brown eyes were much too sunken in his face. And last that David remembered, Kevin had kept his light brown hair neatly cropped extremely close to his head. Now it was long and shaggy, though it looked like he had tried, and failed, to cut it himself at one point.

Then David turned his attention to more important matters. Like the small army of mutants Kevin seemed to have gathered in the forest near the Institute.

And if David was correct, was currently explaining about how to get past the security.

But still, he didn't quite believe what he was seeing until his mutation kicked in and he began to receive a slow trickle of information that Kevin knew.

David stifled a gasp, whirling around and grabbing Nori by her upper arms. He slapped a hand over her mouth when she tried to protest, pulling her to the ground so that they were both kneeling.

"Nori," he whispered urgently, taking his hand away from her lips when he was positive she wasn't going to speak, "We have to get out of here."

"What!" Nori exclaimed in a whisper, "You said it was just Kevin. Isn't that good?" Nori pushed past him and crawled towards the place he'd been watching the mutants from before, despite his silent protests, "Cessily will probably be thrilled that he's—" she froze as her eyes fell on Kevin, jaw dropping at the size of the hoard standing with him, "How the hell did we miss _that_?"

David frowned at the mutants he could no longer see, remembering the way that they all stood completely still, stares blank and making not even a breath of noise. He closed his eyes, trying to siphon off more information. The only sources he was getting anything from were Kevin himself and one other person, but all he was getting from _them_ was a lot of hatred pointed towards 'Wither'. He shifted his attention back to Kevin's mind.

"They got here by teleportation," he whispered, "that's what the pink flash was."

Nori studied the group of people. There were several mutants with visible mutations, including a stringy mutant with pink skin wearing a black leather cat suit. But many of the mutants collected there, standing perfectly still, looked remarkably unremarkable. They even wore civilian clothing, albeit filthy civilian clothing. But the one thing that was exactly the same among every single person except Kevin was that they all had completely white and almost luminous eyes.

"Freaky," Nori murmured, flexing her silver gauntlets, "and something tells me they're not dropping in to say 'hello'." She coiled to jump out at them, ready to attack and defend her home, when David threw his arms around her, not unlike how he'd just done to stop her from murdering Bobby earlier.

"Are you insane?" he whispered urgently, "There's at least a hundred mutants there. We can't take all of them by ourselves! We need to get out of here before they find _us!_"

Nori whirled around, shoving David back with a firm push, then glared at her boyfriend as he fell to the ground.

"No, are _you _insane?" she growled lowly, "they're going to our home, they're going to attack our friends! How can you even _consider _running away?"

David grit his teeth at Nori's stubbornness.

"We'll help them by being two more people they don't have to worry about."

Just then, they both froze as they heard the subtle noise of Kevin ceasing to talk, followed by the steady almost-not-even-there crunch of nettle beneath the feet of the small army he seemed to be leading.

Nori spun back to the little gap in the underbrush, peering through just in time to see the last of the mutants disappear from the clearing with surprising swiftness for their silence.

She got to her feet as they disappeared, expression dark as she looked down at David.

"Sorry." She said simply, before driving her toe into his side with a hard kick. David let out a small cry of surprise, curling in on his stomach, and Nori was suddenly gone. The only evidence of her passage was light scorch marks on the ground where her electrical burst of super speed had burned the ground, marking her path.

David groaned as he got to his feet. That girl, always needing to be the hero.

Well, he'd better go stop her from doing anything too stupid again.

**(())(())(())(())(())(())**

Wolverine was frustrated. And trust me, that was not a common thing for Wolverine to be. Usually when frustrated he'd simply ride out on his motorcycle to whatever was frustrating him, use his claws to cut it into little pieces, then go enjoy some beer and cigars.

But unfortunately, this time wouldn't work like that, because he was frustrated by the fact that HE COULDN'T FIND WHAT WAS FRUSTRATING HIM. At least last time Rogue was kidnapped it was painfully obvious in who took her, and it didn't exactly take long for him to find her again and cut up his frustrations.

But this was different. There were no clues on who took her, or why, or _how_, much less where she ended up. It wasn't Magneto, unless the newly-cured mutant was still making plans for world-domination, which was unlikely. Not Mystique, even though even in her also post-cured state she probably could have done it, because she would have made a bigger show, rubbing it in everyone's face that she was still the best at being a conniving bitch when human.

For all he knew, Rogue could be in an underground volcano in Russia or something.

But even though he was frustrated and very much wanted to cut whoever took Rogue into itty bitty pieces by that point, he still wasn't happy when the Institute alarms went off.

Because he hadn't found them.

They'd found him.

**(())(())(())(())(())(())**

**Nori and David are a cannon couple with the comics, though they're technically not anymore because they broke up (long complicated explanation. It involved David's heart being ripped out, literally and emotionally, Nori being paranoid, Hellion, and the devil. Just Google it). But before they split, they had this tendency to make out right before going into a battle, so pretty much every comic. Everyone else found this terribly annoying. I thought it was cute :3**

**Review, because without reviews I lose interest and go to watch a Lord of the Rings marathon and forget about this story for a while. A LONG while.**

**And if you **_**have **_**to have a flame in your review, make sure it's the fire kind of flame and not the pointless (as opposed to constructive) criticism kind of flame.**


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